Limited0Over
by Misterangryeyes
Summary: Shirou Emiya comes to Chaldea as a Pseudo-Servant. Takes rough inspiration from the 5-star Craft Essence, and EMIYA's throwaway line about Sengo Muramasa. Now made somewhat obsolete as of EoR3. The story goes on, however.
1. Meeting of Servant and Master

He chases a dream

Forever striking cold steel

Under his blue skies

He lived unwanted

Had forged blades with no equal

Under darker skies

In a forest, far away from here.

A man stood in a forge, striking at the bar of glowing metal held in his hands furiously, showering the dirty stone floor with sparks. He was short when measured amongst other men, but then again, he was hardly ever seen in their company.

His hair, crimson and bound as the fire of his forge, saw to that.

The noise was horrendous. The oil that filled the vats along the walls shivered in time with each swing of the man's hammer. Yet he felt no discomfort, stuffed as his ears were with expensive wax plugs.

He stopped hammering for a second to inspect the work, grunted and stuck it into the quenching vat nearest him. He grabbed another bar out of a second vat and carried it over to a furnace, throwing it onto the coals.

As he was starting to work the bellows he became aware of someone behind him, though he was not quite sure how he knew that.

"What is it?" He said, taking out his ear plugs.

"This one has no need to shout," said a soft female voice.

Sengo Muramasa blinked and cleared his throat. "Apologies. It has been a day or so since I have used my voice." He grabbed the bellows and began working them powerfully. "Is there something you need, friend?"

"You have yet to see my face and still we are already friends, swordsmith?"

Still Muramasa did not turn around. "If one breathes, if one dies, if one laughs and cries," he grunted as he pumped the bellows harder.

"Oh? One is not at all as uncouth and ill-tempered as one is infamous for. Though brusque, one appears to possess a poetic nature."

Muramasa snorted. Picking up the white-hot bar of metal with a pair of long tongs, he slid it into another quenching vat. Only then did he turn around to see the woman he talked to.

She was the very picture of Imperial beauty. Tall for a woman and clad in a formal kimono that looked out of place in a mere blacksmith's forge. Her dark brown eyes were alight with interest and her rosebud lips were curved in a coy smile. A light blue piece of sapphire shaped like a wing was pinned to her hair just above her left ear.

You could not enchant this man known as the Forger of Demon Blades.

But this woman came close with a look.

"There are perhaps three kinds of people who interrupt me while I work," Muramasa said, drawing off his thick gloves and tossing them upon a nearby anvil. "There are those who are desperate and believe that their emotions will somehow make the tales surrounding my blades anything more than utter nonsense, and then ask me to forge a blade for them with all the meagre wealth they have on them."

He pointedly looked over her fine silk dress, at her smooth hands clasped together just below her stomach, at the lack of pockets.

The woman's smile did not quite grow, but tilt happily.

"Then there are those who believe, either because of their station in life or the amount of money on their person, that I will forge a sword for them on their whim." He pauses, a sudden thought occurring to him. "I suppose they are right, but I feel that one should know I have turned lords away before."

"And ladies?" she asked, her smile widening.

"And finally," said Muramasa, ignoring her. "There are those who are not altogether, how should we say, mundane. Am I correct, _lady_?"

She spread her fingers wide, as if presenting him to a watching crowd. "Perhaps," was all she said. Her smile was unnerving.

He let out a heavy breath and turned away from her, picking up the first bar of metal out of the vat, inspecting it critically. He dragged a callused hand along its shaft, grunting in dissatisfaction as he heard the metal sing shrilly. It was the finest metal it could be with conventional forging techniques, indeed, some of the finest swords were comparable to what could be made from this, in this land of the rising sun.

But no matter how one forged it, iron was still far too brittle to be made into the kind of weapon he wanted to make.

 _What am I doing wrong?_ He wondered.

" **Perhaps one should add some more carbon into the mixture, some two to a hundred parts per iron**."

Muramasa looked at the woman. She looked back at him, face blank and eyes questioning whatever was the matter with him.

"What did you say?" He asked, very quietly.

She tilted her head like a curious fox. "Need I repeat it?"

He knew that this was a turning point for him. If she were a vampire or some other kind of malicious youkai of the Moonlit Night, this could even be the end of his life.

He knelt upon the ground and laid the sword reverently to the side, elegant as a samurai. Then he bowed his head low to her against the ground. "Please," he said without hesitation.

She smiled then, as if at some private jest. "Humble and bold as well. Indeed, perhaps you are one of the few of this time worthy enough to use this one well."

The smith did not care much for her tone of voice, nor her cryptic words, but her statement from earlier had tugged on a part of his soul, his very origin as a being. It had not been unlike the feeling he had first had upon picking up his first hammer.

Then she spoke through those rosebud, cherry-petal coloured lips.

Muramasa could not remember the words she said. Nor would he remember how exactly she disappeared from his forge and how the rest of that day ended.

He would however, remember that night, and the cold bed he woke up alone in the following dawn.

But most importantly, through all the scorn and hatred and slander that would follow him until the end of his days and beyond, he would remember her words as the sound of steel _singing_ against his trailing finger.

In a forest clearing, far away from here.

Shirou Emiya sat upon a small boulder with his legs crossed, his eyes closed, hands resting atop his knees, facing up.

The very picture of serenity.

Shirou's short red hair gently swayed in the breeze. Not a single sound other than the movement of the wind was made in this verdant forest. But his mind was elsewhere, not unable, but simply unwilling to take note of this discrepancy.

"Trace, on."

His magic circuits, already activated, pulsed all along the left side of his upper body. A long beam of crackling blue light coalesced into existence parallel to the ground above his palms.

He had made over a thousand blades like this, had even Projected the hollow skeleton of a divine construct once. The seven steps to Tracing a blade, even the Noble Phantasm of a hero of ages past, were as easy as breathing to him at this point.

 **Judging the concept of creation.**

But here he paused for a split second, slowing the rate of his prana for just half a second to see in his Mind's Eye the steel that was his body _shiver_ —

And the hammer struck, forcing him to move on lest his Reality Marble collapse.

 **-Hypothesizing the—**

 **-Duplicating the composition—**

 **-Imitating—**

 **-Sympathizing with—**

 **-Reproducing—**

 **-Excelling every manufacturing process.**

The blade that appeared in his hands was heavy, a blade that had once killed a fell dragon.

It crumbled into steel dust seconds later, into motes of prana soon after.

Shirou frowned. Making a failure of a Projection was acceptable, the drain on his prana reserves almost negligible.

No, he frowned because he had been close that time. Close to seeing the connection between his Origin and Element and, perhaps, a path into the Akashic Records.

He sighed and looked up at the red, sunless sky.

Shirou Emiya still looked as youthful as he had been the day he had asked Zelretch for a favor, the day he had stepped into his Reality Marble, perhaps even younger. His Unlimited Blade Works kept all the swords he had ever seen in prime condition, and what was he if not a sword?

Well, he had stopped counting how long ago that had been after the first ten years he had spent here.

Dull amber eyes closed again.

"Trace, on."

His attempts to reach the Root were not because of any of his own desires. After all, as with so many things, a sword is devoid of meaning until someone gives it meaning.

To be a hero of justice—had been one such meaning he had spent fulfilling to the best of his ability in his early youth.

The Fifth Holy Grail War had changed all of that. He had fought and spoken with heroes of ages past, all filled with greater meaning to their existences, greater purposes, regardless of whether they had been spirits or not. Shirou thought he had found his calling affirmed in these warriors, most of all, in the King of Knights who was his Servant.

Until he met a certain Archer-class Servant. Until he spoke and fought with him, and finally realized, towards the end of that frantic melee, who that man was.

A field of swords had stretched before his eyes then. A world of regrets and sorrow. A world of rusted and chipped iron thrust into dead earth, below a sky of crackling dark clouds and immense gears.

Shirou Emiya realized that day two things: the first was that the meaning he had taken up from Kiritsugu Emiya was brittle, unable to bend to abide the stresses that came with striving to be a hero of justice. The path to save all that he could was a hypocritical paradox, one that demanded he help even those monsters who attacked the innocent, even at his own expense.

That realization still did not deter him from his path.

This Shirou Emiya was a different man from his future self, perhaps he always had been.

If Saber had injured that Archer—

If he himself had not been taught magecraft by Kiritsugu—

If and only if he had not been saved that night of flames and black mud.

But regardless, from that unimaginable pain and suffering his future self had suffered, that man had forgotten the one thing that had kept Shirou in the Holy Grail War when he had been presented with the option of withdrawing:

It was not wrong to help others who could not help themselves.

Thus, his aria had been completed.

He would never become Archer.

But that was only the one chapter to his story. While he worked to have the Grail destroyed at the end of the war, he had found another purpose to his life, and a promise made to the one woman he would always love.

Avalon. Where she would be waiting for him.

He had sought many a path before this one. For ten years after the Holy Grail War he became not a Hero of Justice, but a simple hero, and chased that dream, never once shirking in the promise he made.

Even this was another route that could lead to seeing her again. He was not trying to get to the Akashic Records for the sake of it being the greatest ambition of most magi.

So even now, he continued to strike cold steel.

Until he saw her again.

Here.

"Are you sure that you got all the star quartz ready?"

"Who do you think I am, Ritsuka? This isn't my first summoning you know."

"I know, it's just…I feel like something's going to be off about this one."

"Jeez, you say that about every summoning we've done."

"Every summoning _you've_ done, sis."

"Hey, I've gotten us some kickass Servants!"

"I'd call him a lot of things, but I would not call the Phantom of the Opera 'kickass'."

"Um, senpai, I'm sure that Phantom-san would take offense at hearing you say that."

"Mashu, I'm sure he would forgive me if Gudako told him to."

"Just for calling me that, I'm going to tell him you said that about him after this is over."

"Uh, sis, please don't. I don't want any of our Assassin-class Servants angry at me. I'm sorry for calling you Gudako, please forgive me."

"Hah! Say that like you mean it, peasant!"

"Are you channeling Nero's spirit?!"

"I am not hearing an apology, brother dear!"

"I'm sorry! Please don't tell that guy I said he wasn't kickass!"

"Masters…the summoning?"

"Oh woops, sorry Mashu, got carried away there, hehe."

"What would I do without you Mashu…"

"I—I'm sure you would be fine on your own, senpai."

"Mashu? Are you okay? You're turning a bit red?"

"You're an idiot, Ritsuka."

"Hey, what is that supposed to—Mashu why are you nodding?!"

"Anyways, dense morons aside—"

"Hey!"

"—Time to roll!"

Above the summoning array dots of prana form into a circle. And they begin to spin.

There: 

A spirit stirred. A calling, asking for its help in a Grail War that isn't a Grail War.

How curious. Naturally it would refuse a normal Grail War summons, as it is not being called by catalyst nor is it a fighter at all, making the possibility of it being granted its wish so close to zero it would not be worth trying.

But it can sense the abnormality of this summons, and the vast power that is behind it, rivaling the grail itself.

Perhaps this power would be amenable to help the spirit on its own time. After all, what harm could it do now to try?

The light takes it.

He paused a moment before projecting another blade.

He stood, a nameless katana held in his left arm, considering the sunless sky.

Light shone down upon his face, and he heard a call asking him for his help.

He does not need to think about why. This is one of the reasons, he suspects, why she had loved him.

He accepts.

The light takes him.

Here. 

The light fountained up towards the ceiling as it always did when summoning a new Servant, the whine of and thrum of prana being forced into a physical being rising to a fever pitch.

The only male Master of Chaldea could have sworn he heard the only other Master of Chaldea, his sister, yell: "Boo-yah!"

He would have rolled his eyes if they weren't so tightly shut.

The keening of a new spirit being brought into the world begins to die down, as the fountain of light dissipates slowly.

Despite himself, Gudao is looking forward to meeting his sister's new Servant. _Maybe she'll finally have summoned someone who could rein her more reckless impulses in?_

He hears her trip on her own feet, hears her let out a yelp as she crashes onto her butt.

He sighed, not making a move to help her up, like any good brother did.

 _Right, like that's ever going to happen_.

Somewhere. 

_"I am Sengo Muramasa. A pleasure to meet you."_

 _"I'm Emiya Shirou. The honor is all mine, swordsmith."_

 _"Oho? You know who I am but do not hate or disparage me?"_

 _"I know of your demon swords, Muramasa-sensei. They are unpleasant indeed, but the evil that they carry was not forged into them during their making. Rather, the curse they all bear reminds me of something similar I had seen before."_

 _"Where was this?"_

 _"In the curse that killed my father."_

 _"You have lived a storied life."_

 _"Is that not why we are here?"_

 _"Hm. I suppose you are correct. Wait, your soul, it's—"_

 _"Likely the reason I was chosen to be your vessel, sensei."_

 _"But,_ how? _This is something…impossible."_

 _"I am but a third-rate magus, unable to cast the simplest of spells to light a fireplace or repair a broken window. But for all that sir, my body is made of swords. If not you, then perhaps I would be speaking to Goro Nyudo Masamune, or perhaps Weyland the Smith."_

 _"I see…"_

 _"Will you use my body well, Muramasa-sensei?"_

 _"…You were not born with the name Emiya."_

 _"How did you know that?"_

 _"You are one of my descendants, as surely as my name is Sengo Muramasa. Hah! I'll bet your hair is the color of autumn leaves as well."_

 _"I…am descended from you? How do you know that?"_

 _"The same way I can tell your soul would sing at my touch. You share the same core as I._

 _"Your Origin was Sword as well..."_

 _"I cannot in good conscience use you as a vessel anymore, my boy."_

 _"What? But—"_

 _"That was to be my wish to the Grail, Emiya Shirou. To leave behind a successor who would not repeat the mistakes I made in trying to forge the perfect blade. A successor who could simply live for the sake of living. To see my wish fulfilled on the cusp of entering a Holy Grail War…well, the feeling gives me some measure of peace. Yet, we have both already answered the call."_

 _"Yes, sensei."_

 _"What do you wish to do, Emiya Shirou? We cannot go back as easily as have come."_

 _"I want to help the ones who called us. I want to see if their causes are just, and if they are, I will help them however I can. But more than that…I have a wish of my own."_

 _"Yes?"_

 _"I want to see someone_ _again."_

 _"Hah! Well said indeed! Then here is what you must do, my successor! Take all the swords I have, all the power I can spare. Were it any other human I have no doubt they would shatter, but your soul is unique. An infinite world of swords is a perfect place to rest the countless blades I have forged in my time, and I cannot think of anyone else better to inherit my own experience than my own blood."_

 _"Thank you for your trust in me, Muramasa-sensei."_

 _"The honor was all mine, successor. Farewell and good luck, my successor."_

 _"Farewell, Sengo Muramasa."_

Emiya Shirou opened his eyes slowly as the light gradually dimmed into the darkness. The first thing he saw was the girl sitting on the floor in front of him, looking up at him with unkempt red hair draped slightly over wide amber eyes.

A memory flickered to the front of his mind. A memory of a girl silhouetted by the moon, turning to face him, regal and poised.

Shirou smiled at the girl, unaware he was standing with almost as much grace as his beloved King of Knights once had.

"I ask of you." He says. "Are you my master?"

A moment of silence goes by as he waits for her answer.

She slowly turns red.

She says something then, that will forever baffle him:

"Meep."


	2. Rising Calm

EDIT: Fixed the order of the names Gudao introduces himself with, sorry for the confusion.

* * *

Chapter 2:

Shirou took a moment to process the word, and blinked. "Meep?"

The girl blinked, her face going blank for the briefest of instances before she frantically nodded, shooting up onto her feet spryly. "I said yes, I'm definitely, positively, one hundred and twenty percent your Master!" She said quickly. "I'm Fujimaru Gabrielle, but, uh, you can call me Gabby, if you want."

Shirou took the briefest of moments to look her over. A white uniform with black trimmings fit snugly over her body, paired with a knee-length black skirt. The colour of her hair and eyes matched his, strangely enough.

Shirou nodded, her very emphatic statement confirmed by feeling a flow of prana coming from—

Shirou's eyes flickered behind Gabby to look at a boy who had stopped in place just as he had taken a step towards him. He was dressed similarly to Gabby, his blue eyes bright, black hair mussed and distinctly juvenile _._ A girl with short purple hair positioned herself protectively in front of the boy, a giant shield held off to her side but clearly ready to use it.

Without even thinking about it, Shirou's eyes Structurally Analyzed and recorded that shield— _Sir Galahad's shield, the Round Table itself incarnate—_ **planting** it into the **soil** of **that endless forest of swords.**

 _Sir Galahad was a woman?_ Shirou thought in surprise, but as he glanced over the girl's soft features a thought cleared away his skepticism quickly. _Well, I suppose if Saber wasn't really a guy…_ He turned his attention back to the boy, back to what had originally shocked him.

There was a flow of prana coming from him just like the one coming over from Gabrielle.

"Two masters with multiple Servants?" He muttered.

The boy smiled, easygoing and cheerful. "Welcome to Chaldea," he said. "I'm Fujimaru Ritsuka. And you are?"

 _Chaldea? My Masters are related? And they don't know who I am, their own Servant?_

Shirou took a small breath and drew upon old lessons of etiquette that had been drilled into him by Saber almost a decade ago, helping him shove his questions aside until later. "The circumstances of my summoning were unusual." He said calmly. "You were to have summoned Sengo Muramasa with my body as his vessel, but he decided I would fulfill his dream better than he could. This body's name—my name—is Shirou Emiya."

He was expecting blank looks and confusion at having never heard of him.

"EMIYA?!"

Gabby stared at him, looking as startled as he felt. "Are you familiar with my...legend, Master?" He asked.

She narrowed her eyes and stared at his features. "He does kind of look like him," she muttered. "Does being a Servant run in the family or something?"

Shirou felt all sorts of alarm bells ringing in his head. "By _him_ , Master, do you mean a tanned Archer with short white hair dressed in red?" He asked, tense. He had no desire to see that man again, much less repeat their fight.

Her eyes snap back open. "I, uh, take it you don't like him all that much?"

 _It doesn't sound as if he's Gabby's enemy. And the truth is bound to come up eventually,_ reasoned Shirou, relaxing _. Best to get it out now._ "I cannot hate myself for making choices I would have made under different circumstances," Shirou said with a shrug.

"Yourself?" A long moment. "Wait, _yourself?!_ "

"EMIYA is a Shirou from a different timeline," said Ritsuka. _Far too quickly,_ noted Shirou even as he nodded towards his Master. _Perhaps he's seen this happen before._ "But still, you two don't look so…"

Shirou smiled at the Master, shifting his pale shroud over his bare chest and running a hand through his hair. "Yes," he said simply. _They really_ are _talking about Archer as if they know him well,_ he noted. _This Grail War is raising further questions the more I learn about it._ "You can call me just Shirou though, for convenience's sake."

"Well, Shirou, I've got another question for you." Ritsuka's expression turned intense. Shirou nodded gravely, gesturing for him to continue. "Can you cook as well as EMIYA?"

He felt Gabby staring a hole into the side of his head, waiting for an answer.

 _It seems my reputation has preceded me._ "I make no promises, Master," said Shirou confidently. "It has been some time since I've last been in a kitchen, but I'm confident the knowledge will come back easily."

Ritsuka closed his eyes and let out a sigh, gazing towards the heavens in contentment and silence. Sir Galahad seemed to feel the same way.

Gabby wiped the corner of her mouth with a sleeve.

Shirou let them be for a moment before asking, "If I may ask though, is this girl truly your…other Servant?" He asked indicating the girl with the shield.

Who came back to herself quickly and gave him a short bow. _Well, she's polite. As expected of a Knight of the Round._ "Mashu Kyrielight, Servant Shielder. It's a pleasure to meet you, Shirou."

"Shielder?" Shirou asked. "I guess it explains the shield, but I've never heard of that class." _She didn't introduce herself as Sir Galahad?_

"I can explain a few things while we're walking, if that's okay with you?" asked Ritsuka, gesturing towards a door Shirou had not noticed before.

Shirou shrugged. "Certainly, Master."

He followed as Ritsuka headed toward and opened the door by waving his hand in front of a sensor. "Mashu is a Demi-Servant, like you actually," – _Th_ _at explains why she didn't introduce herself as Galahad_ – "And her unique circumstances gave her a unique classification as a Servant. Speaking of which, if you were originally the vessel of Sengo Muramasa, that means you're a Saber yourself, right?"

The four of them had stepped out into an empty, brightly lit hallway. His boots hardly made a noise against whatever material the floor was made of.

Shirou briefly entertained the possibility of simply nodding but decided to speak up. His Masters seemed trustworthy enough, and in his case his Servant class was more of a suggestion than a rule. "Not quite. Sengo Muramasa would have been a powerful Saber, despite what my ancestor thought of himself, had he completely possessed my body."

"Ancestor?" the girl, Mashu, asked quickly, wonderingly.

Shirou nodded. "A distant one."

"Huh," Gabby said thoughtfully, staring at him. "You said earlier that the reason he didn't possess entirely was because he thought you could fulfill his wish better than he could. Was that part of the reason why he thought that?" She suddenly blinked, realizing she was staring. "Oh, uh, I mean, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

Shirou shook his head. "It isn't a big deal. Muramasa-sensei wished for a worthy successor to his name, one that would not repeat the same mistakes he made." Shirou paused a moment and continued in a more subdued voice. "In me he saw his wish fulfilled. He was truly a good man, regardless of what his legacy said about him."

"I believe you Shirou!" Gabby said quickly.

He smiled briefly, but widely, at her. "Thank you."

She cleared her throat loudly, tugging at her collar. "So, what _is_ your class, anywho?"

"I am a Dual Class Servant," said Shirou. "A Saber from the power Muramasa-sensei left me, and a Caster from my own experiences."

He looked at the shocked faces around him, and said quickly, "Though, if you know anything about EMIYA's magic, you should know my talents as a Caster are extremely limited due to my Reality Marble."

"That's still _kickass_ _!_ " said Gabby, shooting a smirk at her brother, who rolled his eyes.

"For once, I'm in total agreement with Gabby," said Ritsuka dryly.

"Thank you, Master" said Shirou.

"My friends, and most of my Servants are my friends, call me Gudao," Ritsuka said with a smile.

 _All your Servants?_ Shirou returned the smile, tinged with confusion. "Why not Ritsuka?"

They came up to a door with an intricately shaped number seven hanging on the wall beside it. Shirou could feel the presence of a Servant inside, but given how they seemed ubiquitous in Chaldea, he assumed this must have been the Servant's lodging. Ritsuka shrugged at the question and knocked on the door. It slid open almost instantaneously. "The name stuck a long time ago," he said simply, stepping into the room.

Shirou followed with a small smile. He decided he liked both Gudao and Gabby.

What struck him first about the room was the lighting. Soft blue, the room was only lit up by the computer screens that seemed to take up the entirety of the far wall, with all kinds of text scrawling continuously across from left to right. The second was the clutter: Shirou took care not to step on a few errant cylindrical cases and books that were stacked haphazardly or simply lying around on the ground as he followed his Masters.

In the center of it all a simple wooden desk seemed to squat, with how low to the ground it was. It had a large monitor sitting on top of it, a boy with short blue hair sitting at the desk, typing upon a floating keyboard, made of what appeared to be light, furiously. A lab coat was draped over his suit with a bowtie matching the color of his hair snugly tied to his collar. A pair of large headphones was plugged into a tablet floating next to the keyboard and light reflected off the thick-rimmed glasses the boy wore.

Gudao waved with a bright smile. The boy did not look up. He turned to Shirou and shrugged, content to wait as there was nothing he could do.

"Hey Andy!" Gabby was under no such inhibition it seemed. "We got a new friend here for you!"

The boy looked up irritably, taking them in. The keyboard disappeared with a low thrum and his sharp blue eyes settled on Shirou. His gaze made Shirou feel as if he were the subject of Structural Analysis.

In strict baritone voice, far too old to rightly belong to a child, he snapped, "I have told you not to call me that before, Master. Despite all appearances to the contrary, I am a fully-grown adult." And then, "Who are you?" to Shirou.

"I'm Shirou Emiya," the man in question said politely. "Who are you?"

"I see. Hans Christian Andersen." He pushed away from the desk and with practised motions made his way through the clutter and planted himself in front of Shirou. The writer's head barely came up to Shirou's chest. "A pleasure. I truly hope your culinary skills rival that of your alternate self's." Hans held out a small but wrinkled hand, which Shirou shook bemusedly. _He figured that one out quickly as well._

"I'll leave him in your capable hands, Hans," said Gudao with a small bow. "I have to go do some paperwork," he said to Shirou apologetically. "Before, I would explain to the newer Servants myself what we do here in Chaldea but then towards the end of Orleans, well...things just got too busy for Da Vinci and Doctor Roman to handle."

 _Leonardo Da Vinci, Hans Christian Andersen, and Sir Galahad all in one place at the same time._ Shirou almost laughed at the absurdity of it all before remembering how bizarre the Fifth Holy Grail War had been.

Gudao mistook Shirou's look of quiet amusement for something else. "You'll meet them later, but for now Hans will explain what Chaldea is and answer any questions you might have. Probably a lot better than I ever could," he said the last part quietly. At Shirou's nod, Gudao made his way out the door, with Mashu taking a moment to wave quietly to Hans and look once more at Shirou before leaving.

"See you later Shirou!" chirped Gabby as she followed them out. He heard her say, "So where's Fou off to anyhow?" before the door slid closed.

"Indeed," the man in the shape of a boy drawled, as if to himself. Shirou looked curiously at the writer and got a familiar kind of smirk that said he was missing something obvious and the wearer of said smirk wasn't going to tell what it was. "So, onto dry exposition? No, wait a moment, such a story-telling and inquiry should not be conducted in such a poor lighting."

Hans clapped his hands and the ceiling lights flickered on, the sudden illumination making Shirou blink. The room did not seem quite so large now.

"I enjoy the feeling of being in a larger space, even it is simply a self-inflicted illusion," Hans said blandly, walking over to his desk once more. "As well, I work best in dim lighting."

"You read people well," noted Shirou.

"I always have," said Hans primly, picking up a stack of books sitting on top of a chair and setting it aside. "Come and sit. I will tell you the essential parts you have to know about Chaldea first, then you can ask your questions."

Shirou sat upon the indicated chair. His knees were drawn almost uncomfortably close together.

"Apologies," said Hans. "If you'll stand up a moment?"

Shirou did so. Hans waved a hand and a few hardcover books stacked themselves under the chair, raising it higher.

"Thank you," said Shirou gratefully.

"Polite. It was nothing, I have no use for simple pictures of automobiles. No spirit of life in them, you see," said Hans with a shrug, drawing up his own chair and sitting across the desk from Shirou. His feet did not reach the floor. "This story begins with a boy waking up alone in a hallway to the sensation of something wet brushing against his cheek..."

* * *

Hans Christian Andersen knew people better than they knew themselves. Similarly, he knew himself far better than he was comfortable with. Both were reasons why he was so pessimistic and cynical, traits that had not endeared him to some other residents of Chaldea. In life, he had struggled to keep that understanding to himself, knowing that sometimes people did not wish to confront the sides of themselves they had not known existed or even kept secret deliberately.

It was only human to shy away from your own flaws, whether it be in spirit, wisdom, intelligence, or body. It was a mark of distinction if one embraced their flaws and made them truly a part of who they were. Such people were rare when considering the whole of humanity, but one of the more gratifying parts of being summoned to Chaldea was meeting one of these people every other door you opened and stuck your head into.

Such was this incarnation of EMIYA, or Shirou, who sat quietly, mulling over the information he had been given.

Hans had been reading Shirou from the moment he had been alerted to his presence. He did that to all newer Servants, but this man was one of the more interesting ones.

The man moved with a grace that spoke of having no illusions as to where his place in the world was, and knew quite well exactly where that place was at all times. It was a gait that spoke simultaneously of great dignity and great humility, paradoxical as such a notion was. Perhaps the man's unique form of magecraft - Tracing, was it? - was responsible for such a distorted self-image.

Or perhaps indicative of it? After all, one can only hold so many Noble Phantasms before they lost much of their majesty, right?

Hans could also tell Shirou was not a thinker by nature. Not unintelligent at all, simply incapable of making certain intuitive leaps that other broader-thinking minds would have easily made, like King Artoria, Jeanne D'Arc, or even Gudao. It was like someone had taught Shirou how to go through the motions on how to collect and collate information rather than having learned for himself. His questions were clinical, impersonal, revealing nothing of what kind of information he could have personally wanted to know.

Yet the man's personality was as far from that as possible. During tale Hans had woven, Shirou had expressed a warmth and compassion for his fellow man that would have baffled Hans had he not met Saints like Jeanne and Martha beforehand.

Though he never asked after them, Shirou winced every time someone in Han's recollection was hurt, a well-worn expression that belied a deeper pain Shirou had been carrying for a long time.

Simply put, the man who taught Shirou how to interact with others was someone who was markedly different from him in terms of personality, but similar enough in terms of ideals or principles that Shirou's compassion had not been quashed under that tutelage.

Hans thought he knew who that man was, but did not feel the need to confirm it aloud.

"So, how many Servants have you summoned to Chaldea in all?" Asked Shirou finally.

It was a fair question and not entirely unexpected given how Shirou had moments ago been concerned with the differences between the Fuyuki system and Chaldea's.

"Counting you, we have fifty-eight," said Hans, nodding at Shirou's shocked expression. "Indeed it is quite the motley collection of personalities we have here in Chaldea. Luckily we have practically an entire mountain to ourselves, so housing and living space is no issue."

Hans paused for a moment, and chuckled, unable to resist elucidating further on the situation. He had no idea the significance of the words he was about to say.

"Technically we have fifty-six discrete Servants," he said cheerfully, "Considering how both you and Artoria have doppelgangers."

Shirou went absolutely still. "Artoria?" He said in a hoarse whisper.

Hans stared a moment at Shirou's face.

He had seen that expression before once, and only once before, in a mirror as a child. That day he had received a letter from his first love, a letter undoubtedly full of sweet nothings, a letter that remained unopened even up until he had it clutched in his hand upon his death bed.

He could do only one thing in the face of that look.

Hans Christian Andersen stood up and walked out of the room. Standing just outside the doorway, silhouetted against the hallway light, he looked back at Shirou and cleared his throat.

"Do you not seek an audience with a King?" He asked.

Shirou followed the fairy tale writer, his hands shaking, out into the hallway.

* * *

 ** _Shirou Emiya (Sengo Muramasa)_**

 ** _Class(es): Saber/Caster_**

 _Gender_ _: Male_

 _Height/Weight_ _: 187 cm, 78 kg_

 _Alignment_ _: Neutral Good_

 _Master(s)_ _: Ritsuka 'Gudao' Fujimaru, Gabrielle 'Gabby, not Gudako!' Fujimaru_

 **Parameters:**

 _Strength_ _: D ~ C+_

 _Endurance_ _: D ~ C+_

 _Agility_ _: C ~ B_

 _Mana : B ~ A+ _

_Luck_ _: E_

 _Noble Phantasm_ _: ?S?W?O?R?D?_

 **Class Abilities:**

 _Magic Resistance_ _: B_

 _Territory Creation: E++_

 _Item Creation: E – A_

 _The complete form of Shirou Emiya as a Magus—not quite. Chosen as a vessel for the Forger of Demon Blades just before he reached the Root of all human knowledge, he was bestowed some of Sengo Muramasa's power as a Saber class, while he himself qualifies as a Caster due to the amount of time he spent practicing and advancing his craft while he was in his Reality Marble. Yet though he has reached the point where he could attain a True Magic, his abilities were not forged by battle as a certain other Archer's were, making most of what he has practiced less useful in a fight. His stats are highly variable due the degree of Reinforcement he can use, as well as a_ **certain other state** _he can enter to provide a significant boost to his capabilities._

 _He possesses his original personality in full due to Muramasa's wish. Yet some parts of Muramasa's personality remain._

* * *

A/N

Peer pressure's a bitch.

And so am I for continuing a one-shot I had in no way planned on continuing.

Seriously, why do people like this fic so much?

Can't be my writing. I suck at that stuff.

But here we are. Setting up the next chapter to be juicy and introducing one of my favorite Servants.

I grailed Hans to level 80 with no regrets, but also mostly with no Waver or any other SSR Servant to speak of. But who needs or even wants that absurdly broken character anyways?

Certainly not me...

As I wrote this chapter I started playing JP G/O, to try to get ahead in the story and get a rough gist of what's happening.

Why have I done this? I can't even read Japanese.

It's getting difficult to concentrate on anything when Merlin and Artoria Alter are on rate-up...

Send help, preferably in the form of summoning tickets and saint quartz. Either is fine, I just need that cock wizard to come already!

...Next time we see a promise made at dawn fulfilled.


	3. Meeting of Servant and Servant

**Chapter 3:**

Shirou tried to stop the shaking by clenching his hands. It did not quite work. "The Artoria you know," he said in a strained voice, keeping pace with Hans as they strode through the halls of Chaldea. "She might not be the one from my timeline."

During their discussion, Shirou had not talked much of his past, instead trying to find out more about Chaldea. Hans' recounting of the Grand Order in Fuyuki City and Orleans had left him with little doubt that he was either from a different timeline or dimension, which likely meant that the Shirou Emiya of this world was dead, like the rest of humanity at present.

Once he got over such a simple fact, the rest of the information Hans had told him was easy to digest.

"I would agree with your assessment of the situation," said Hans dryly. "But only due to the fact that my grasp of the metaphysics of this situation is entirely nonexistent. On the other hand we have two and a half Artorias here, so one of them or even the half might well be yours."

 _What?_

"Two...and a half?" Shirou asked, perplexed.

"Hans! You've finally made a friend!" said the excited voice of a young woman from behind him.

"Oh," drawled Hans, rolling his eyes. "What a cliche! As an author it shames me to witness this before my eyes!"

Shirou gave Hans a curious look before turning to say hello-

And the words died in his throat.

"Meet the half I spoke of. Do not forget to breathe," muttered Hans under his breath.

Shirou knew as he laid eyes on her that this was not his Saber. But she was undeniably Artoria, if only a little more younger.

He blond hair was done up as a pony tail with a black ribbon, and she wore a white dress with another black ribbon pinned on her collar. Yet it was not her shorter height or lighter voice that conveyed that feeling of youth the most, it was that she was smiling like she had not a care in the world. An innocence that his Saber did not have.

Then her smile turned a little confused, and Shirou suddenly realized he had been staring.

"What's with that look?" the girl said with a curious tilt of her head, stepping closer and looking over him, her hands clasped behind her back. "Do I have something on my face?"

Desperately, he tried to regain his footing. _It isn't her, it isn't her, it isn't her,_ he chanted to himself in his mind.

"S-Sorry," he said, looking away, a flush rising to his cheeks. "You just look like someone I know." His voice sounded feeble to him. It had to do with his heart pounding, most likely.

He cleared his throat and stepped back from her. She had smelled an awful lot like- _it isn't her it isn't her it isn't..._

"Give the man some space," said Hans, scowling at the girl and interposing himself between the two. "And since you are so rudely not introducing yourselves to each other, the man is Shirou Emiya, and the girl is Artoria Pendragon." Hans gave Shirou a meaningful look as he stepped to the side, formal introductions complete. "After she pulled the sword of selection but before she slayed Vortigern."

She smiled and took a theatrical little bow. "Call me Lily," she said brightly. "It stops people from getting me and my older selves mixed up a lot. Actually, the whole name confusion was even worse before when Gudao and Gabby were calling us Servants by our classes. Had to start calling us by our names instead after Medusa and Ushi kept turning their heads when it was Martha they wanted, hehe. And it still kind of got awkward for us Artorias for a few days before we came up with Lily and Alter."

Shirou was having trouble reconciling the image of his Artoria with this one. The one he knew was regal, a woman who was so composed he could not have conceived of her actually having at one time acted like...well an actual teenage girl.

Shirou felt himself calming down at that thought. Once he had a better grasp on this Lily's personality, it was easier to separate this girl from the woman he loved.

He had a question first however. "Why 'Lily' and 'Alter'?"

"Uhm, not sure. Maybe for the flower or something? Alter...is Alter for a really good reason," she said with a quick frown. "But I liked the name Lily and it stuck and there we went: Artoria Lily Pendragon, future king of Britain, at your service!""

He was about to ask after this 'Alter' when those last few words, so idealistic and honest, made him think of something else entirely. "Lily, you..." he said hesitantly.

She looked at him with honest eyes, open to anything he might say. Full of youthful hope and optimism.

"You still desire to be king, knowing all you know about your reign now?" He asked quietly.

Those wide eyes narrowed, and suddenly he was looking into the eyes of the Once and Future King.

"Is it not the duty of a king to protect his subjects?" So familiar was that voice, so soft and unyielding at once. "Even from the king himself?"

Shirou stared at her in shock. So she did know. About the mistakes her future self would go through. Of how her way of rule would doom not only her people but her most of all. About the end she would meet on that sunset hill.

And still she would press on, if only to try not to make the mistakes her older self had made.

 _Still as stubborn as ever,_ but the thought was fond.

This was the core of the woman he had fallen in love with. A lack of experience could not change that.

Perhaps this was the true reason why his chest hurt so much, now that his heart rate had slowed and the shock had died off. Lily was proof of everything Saber had cast aside to be king, to commit herself to that path with all her strength.

And while he loved and always would love the person Lily would be, he could still mourn the loss of the person that had been Lily.

So instead he shook his head slowly. "You are not wrong," he said, smiling encouragingly at her. _Who knows? Maybe she really will learn a better way to rule._

She stared at him for a few moments and slowly turned around to cough into a fist, her other hand tugging at the ribbon on her chest. "W-well," she said a little quietly, to his confusion. "M-my training still has a ways to go anyways, s-so it isn't as if I'm not open to a little criticism you know? Still have as much time as we have here in Chaldea to try to learn how to be a better king and all that, and I could always, you know, use a little extra help here and there I suppose..."

Shirou suddenly understood. He knew what it was like to be praised when knowing that you were not at your best.

"I'll help with whatever and however I can," he said sincerely. It was the least he could do for someone who was trying to defy their fate. "You can count on me."

Strangely enough though, she grabbed at the tips of her ears and made a strangled noise from her throat.

"Lily?" He asked, concerned, taking a step towards her. "Something wrong?"

Still facing away, she stuck out a palm at him: the universal stop sign. "I-I'm fine, Shirou. Just, um, give me a minute."

Hans groaned, palming his face in a hand and muttering something under his breath, which Shirou only caught a little of.

"What's not fair, Hans?" He asked curiously.

Hans shot what seemed like a suspicious look at Shirou, before the author shook his head again, looking away with a scowl on his face. "You and Gudao are both terrible men, I hope you understand this sooner, if not later."

Shirou blinked. "What do you mean?" He asked, utterly baffled. "In what way?"

Hans ignored him. "Lily," he said, making the girl's shoulders jump a little. "Do you know if Artoria is in the training room now?"

Lily finally turned around and looked at the ground as she answered quietly. Her face was a little flushed, no doubt from embarrassment. Saber was self-conscious about some things as well, so it was understandable. "She left a few minutes before I did."

The short man sighed. "So she'll be in the cafeteria then. Joy. Other beings of little intelligence and too much personality will be there as well..." He turned to look at Shirou. "Well? What will you do if this is your Artoria? You might have quite an audience for such an emotionally charged meeting."

Shirou raised an eyebrow at the author. "You know what my answer is, Hans."

The author grunted. "I suppose I do." Hans began walking down the hallway once more.

Shirou nodded towards Lily, who was apparently able to look at him now. "See you later, Lily."

"Y-yeah, see you later," she said to his back.

Shirou caught up to Hans, who had been walking at quite the brisk pace for someone with such short legs.

After a short silence, the author said, "If I had any doubts as to whether this romance of yours was mutual, they have been settled now."

"By the fact that I made friends with Lily so quickly?" And to him it was true. Her having the face of Artoria did not affect his feelings towards Lily beyond the initial shock. If she had looked like any other woman he had no doubt he still would have made friends with her, given her personality.

Hans gave him a flat look. "Of course. Friends." The man drew the latter word out slowly, but Shirou could not hear any doubt in his voice, only something suspiciously like irony.

But for the life of him he couldn't tell why that was.

Hans continued, "Still, you are calmer than I expected you to be, considering."

"Really?" Shirou said. "I was surprised, sure, but coming to terms with it is easy enough. Lily may be the seed from which the woman I loved grew from, but she isn't going to be Artoria any time soon." He shrugged. It was as simple as that. His heart would belong with one woman always. "Anyways, I forgot to ask, who's this 'Alter' person Lily mentioned? It sounded like she's another Artoria from a different timeline altogether."

They passed a door. "That was the training room, by the way," said Hans. "Where you can spar either with other Servants or simulated foes in all different kinds of combat. Not only that, but it can contain the force of several A-Rank Noble Phantasms being unleashed. You will be expected to show off your capabilities there soon, in all likelihood against another Servant who matches your parameters."

Shirou's voice was dry. "Hans?"

"Have it your way," Hans muttered. "Alter is a form of Artoria with all of her bad sides come out to play. You can thank the Fuyuki Grail's corruption for that. She was also the Saber-class Servant Gudao and Gabby fought at the end of the Fuyuki Singularity. A merciless tyrant, I believe would be a succinct description."

Shirou stopped and stared at Hans, who looked back and relented once more.

"Fine, she is not a terrible person." said Hans. "Alter shares the same ideals and goals that Artoria does, but she has no qualms about methods she uses to accomplish her objectives. She is easier to speak to than Gilgamesh, but I suppose that is hardly a good measure of personality..."

Shirou nodded slowly before the words processed completely in his brain. "Gilgamesh is here?" He asked with furrowed brows.

"You have a grudge against him," Hans noted.

"The one from my timeline at the very least," Shirou muttered. "Is he still arrogant, egotistical, and a general bully?"

Hans nodded. "He mostly keeps to himself, but that is a sound description of his attitude."

Shirou grunted. "Then I'm just glad he won't remember me."

Hans nodded again. "Out of curiosity," asked the author, "exactly what made you hate him so much? Other than the aforementioned personality problems, of course."

"He treated Artoria like an object that belonged to him, nearly killed my sister, and tried to destroy all of human civilization," said Shirou flatly. "Twice."

"Well," said Hans after a short pause. "You have lived a storied life. "

 _The glint of metal off the edge of an impossibly sharp blade. He could hear the screams of the breeze being cut._

 _"Well," the silhouette holding the blade said after a short pause. Shirou got the impression he was smiling. "You've lived a storied life."_

"Is that not why we are all here, great author?" a red-haired man said dryly.

"...Shirou?"

Sengo Muramasa only tilted his head to the side. "Such is this man's name. Do not be alarmed," added Muramasa, as Hans slowly backed away. "This one will retain control of this one's body for only a short amount of time longer, and from then on, no more."

"Shirou Emiya believed he had taken your powers and overriden your consciousness, swordsmith."

Muramasa smiled bitterly. "You really don't lack disdain for me. I was wondering when that damned curse would kick in." He sighed, and continued before Hans could say anything. "I guess it's a blessing for my rough tongue now that you're under its effects."

"Speak," Hans' voice had lost none of its edge, even though he knew about the curse.

 _Doesn't even try to fight it. Must have known my legend either too well or not well enough. Or maybe he knows I'm deflecting._

It did not matter which it was. Amber eyes squeezed tightly for a moment before Muramasa let out another ragged sigh. "Shirou's soul, though incredibly vast and powerful for a mortal, is still that of a mortal's. To truly use my powers, let alone my Noble Phantasm, Shirou must alter the foundation upon which his soul rests upon. It was going to happen anyways, given the meeting you and he are barreling towards to right now, but someone else must know this for certain, to tell him of it for certain."

"Insurance on your investment?" Hans asked sardonically.

Muramasa took a deep, steadying breath. "Something like that," he said with sad smile. "And one other thing. Tell him that it does not matter how many burdens one carries, so long as one can go as far as they can with them." Muramasa blinked in confusion, but this time his smile was much brighter. "I thank you, author."

Hans snorted, letting his quill and tome of fairy tales dissipate into the air.

"Is something funny, Hans?" the other red-haired man asked.

Hans shook his head.

"Uh," said Shirou, not wanting to belabor the point but still curious. "You look kind of...amused and angry at the same time."

Hans barked out a laugh. "Well, you are not wrong, Shirou. By the way, it does not matter how many burdens one carries, so long as one can go as far as they can with them. A certain man misunderstood by history said that once."

Shirou blinked in confusion and hesitated a moment as Hans began walking again. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked himself quietly before walking after the man.

They turned another corner, and Hans pointed to a set of white double doors. "That is the cafeteria there. Now, hopefully Artoria has not met with-"

The two tensed as prana surged inside the cafeteria in massive waves of golden light bursting from the door frame.

Shirou activated his magic circuits with a thought.

A moment later it died down with nothing else noteworthy happening. Hans sighed in relief. "It appears I was tempting fate," he remarked.

Shirou said nothing, walking towards those doors. At least ten other Servants were in that room. And though there were apparently two more Artorias he had not yet met in Chaldea, seeing that light again eliminated any trepidation he might have felt.

He pushed open one of the doors silently and stopped short, staring at the room in front of him. While the room itself was large and not even close to capacity, there were still quite a few people, Servants, sitting at the tables. At the far end of the room, there were a few people bustling about in the kitchen but making remarkably little noise.

Hans pushed the other door open and barked a short and quiet laugh. "This is not the way I would have introduced you to your other self and Artoria," he pronounced. "But I cannot say that it does not amuse me."

The Servants had turned their heads to see Shirou and Hans at the door, and more than a few of those looks were interested.

But Shirou barely noticed that.

He was staring at a scene near the back of the room, closest to an open-windowed kitchen, of a white haired man with his back towards the door, lecturing two very similar-looking women, both of them pointedly not looking in each others' direction.

Archer was wearing an apron. _That_ man was wearing an _apron._

"I don't care how much she annoys you by taking your food, Saber!" EMIYA said angrily. "Almost destroying my kitchen is not the appropriate response!"

Artoria Pendragon, King of Knights, and wielder of the holy blade Excalibur, wore a blue and white dress that looked exactly like the one Shirou had seen her in when she was living with him during the Fifth Grail War.

She herself, looked exactly like the Saber he knew and loved.

Artoria did her best to look dignified and said, "The rules of engagement had changed, Archer."

"In what way?! There shouldn't be any rules of engagement anyways!"

"This _woman_ tried to take my dessert as well."

The other Artoria had pale skin, almost unhealthily so. Her eyes were like the eyes of a dragon, vertical pupils and all. Other than that, her entire demeanor was completely different. Whereas the other Artoria was explaining herself earnestly if not regally, she looked disinterested and bored, checking her fingernails and showing a marked lack of respect for the person yelling at her. She also wore a black dress that was significantly more revealing than the dress the other Artoria wore.

Shirou believed this to be the Alter form of Artoria.

"What's yours is mine," said Alter casually.

"And you!" EMIYA rounded on her angrily. "Didn't I say that if you were hungry you should just go ahead and ASK me or the kitchen staff to cook more food?!"

"It takes less time to just take what I want," said Alter through a mouthful of chocolates.

One of Artoria's eyebrows twitched. "A king must comport himself with-"

"So long as I am fed I care not for any ruffled feathers, oh self of mine."

"Alright, fine!" Yelled EMIYA exasperatedly as it looked like Artoria would jump on Alter with her fists any second. "I was going to make more servings for Alter every meal time anyways!"

"That is an acceptable arrangement," said Alter with a sly tilt to her smile. "With that done," her eyes suddenly flicked towards Shirou, locking onto his gaze with the intensity of a dragon. "Shall we receive introductions from this new, yet strangely familiar Servant who has just arrived?"

EMIYA and Artoria turned and caught sight of Shirou standing at the door.

Their eyes widened, lips parted.

Artoria stood slowly, her eyes locked on his. Neither she nor EMIYA had noticed her spilling some of her tray across the table.

"Shirou?" She whispered, her voice carrying in the sudden silence.

A few murmurs ran through the room, but he ignored that.

Shirou smiled at her nervously.

But the words came surprisingly easily to him, as if he had always known what to say.

"I'm back, Saber."

She took a sharp breath and that was the moment he knew. Despite the odds, despite the infinite parallel worlds that made up the Kaleidoscope, he knew.

 _It's her._

Servants were watching, making some noise. He didn't care as he walked to her, and she walked to him.

In her glistening eyes he saw those days he had spent with her during the war.

That one moonlit night of summoning. The fight with Rider, training in the dojo, tracing Caliburn from her memories, eating dinner together with Rin. Realizing who Archer was as he completed his aria and sent them all into his Unlimited Blade Works. Stalling Gilgamesh while she defeated Assassin, and defeating the King of Heroes together.

Destroying the Grail and the promise.

 _It really is her._

They met in the middle of the cafeteria.

Saber looked up at him. "You've grown," she said quietly.

He laughed, and embraced her.

And she said into his ear, sincere as when they made that promise under dawn: "Welcome back, Shirou."

Shirou felt something slide into place in his soul, something warm and soft in that sunless forest of cold steel.

He felt whole again.

* * *

A/N

Well after a lot of futzing around here we are, finally. The rambling nonsense of the A/N section everyone skips. And I don't blame you! This stuff is boring.

For the purposes of my fic, the Grail War was markedly different so as to give birth to "the complete form of Shirou Emiya as a magus (well, not quite)", so why not just mash two routes together, add some altered upbringing with Kiritsugu, and call it a day. That's all the detail I put into this Shirou's background, really.

Chapter did not want to be written, mostly because there were a lot of things I was considering as I wrote.

I didn't want Muramasa to be a non-factor so his story will definitely pop up later and in case you couldn't tell, its been pretty strongly hinted at already.

The introduction of newer Servants after Shirou and the way Septem will go down given how I screwed up and uh you didn't hear that, since I made Gudao an expert on Roman tyrants during the first chapter. Let's just say that some Servants will be unavailable to use in some Singularities.

More Servant interactions with Shirou and stuff.

If anyone complains about the astronomical odds that come with having the same Shirou and Saber meet in one place place across the (near)infinite expanse of parallel worlds that comprise the Kaleidoscope, please understand that I am aware that you are no fun and can go away.

I'm kidding, I live for seeing those view numbers go up. Please stay awhile, and listen.

It feels like running into brick wall, fighting Gawain for the first time.

...Next time we see-oh hold on the last time I wrote something like this someone poked fun at me when I wrote that interlude.

Ah, screw it, this helps me keep structured. And this is a long A/N already, might as well go for broke.

...Next time we see eight steps become seven, seven steps become six, and six steps become a word encompassing a forest of blades.


	4. A Walk About Town

_My body is made of swords_

 **I am the bone of my sword**

 _My blood is of iron and my heart of glass_

 **Steel is my body and fire is my blood**

 _I have overcome countless battlefields_

 **I have created over a thousand blades**

 _Not even once retreating  
_

 **Unwilling to break**

 _Not even once compromising  
_

 **Nor willing to be renewed**

 _The pursuer forges on alone, striking cold steel in his heart  
_

 **Withstood pain to create countless weapons, holding nothing in reserve  
**

 _Thus, my life needs but one meaning  
_

 **Though my path stretches on, I have no regrets  
**

 _This body will always be made of swords._

 **So as I hope,** **Unlimited Blade Works** _ **.**_

 **Chapter 4**

EMIYA coughed.

Shirou, his eyes closed, still smiling and holding Artoria said, "Shut up, Archer. Let me have this."

He felt Artoria pull away for a moment and he opened his mouth to ask-

She kissed him.

He was vaguely aware that EMIYA was yelling at the gathered Servants to disperse, somewhere in the small part of his mind that was not kissing her back.

An eternity later he was made aware of his need to breathe. The couple parted, their cheeks tinted red. He could feel the rest of the Servants having gone, only Alter and EMIYA remaining. Hans had left as well, but Shirou supposed he could seek him out later to discuss those cryptic words he had been given.

"I have long wanted to see the continuation of my dream," said Artoria. "But still some part of me wonders if I am even awake."

"I'm not a dream though," murmured Shirou.

She tightened her grip on his waist. "I believe you," she said lightly. "But how did you get to Chaldea?" A frown. "As a Servant as well?"

"It's a long-"

Shirou felt a force press down on him as if a full coat of chainmail had been thrown over his shoulders unceremoniously. He separated from Artoria and turned to its source.

Now that Alter had his attention, the prana subsided.

Shirou stifled the urge to swallow the sudden lump in his throat. He was well aware of how much raw prana Alter had just tossed around like nothing to achieve such an effect. _  
_

"Who are you boy, to capture _this_ one's interest?" Alter asked with her chin raised arrogantly at Shirou. "I had hardly believed her capable of enjoying herself, much less initiating a kiss with a man."

"As I was saying," Shirou said cautiously, cutting off Artoria's indignant response by squeezing her wrist, "It's a long story."

Alter looked to Artoria, seemingly unimpressed. "Brevity is a quality I had thought you would appreciate in your partners."

"It'd be a long story anyway," muttered Shirou.

"It is not any of your business who my l-lover is," said Artoria, stumbling a moment on the unfamiliar word.

Alter arched an imperial brow. "On the contrary. You are not blind to the way our cohorts compare and contrast between us three Artorias. Anything meeting _Lily's_ tastes is naturally assumed to be yours and mine. I have no wish to be tied together in any way with a man whose weakness sickens me."

Artoria's eyes narrowed. "Does knowing that you have the capacity to love shake you so?"

"What have I heard now?" Alter said softly. "Certainly not such plain nonsense. You and I cannot be further apart. I could never show such vulnerability."

But through that composure, a muscle in her jaw twitched.

Artoria gave her other self a small but knowing smile.

"Boy!" Alter snapped at Shirou. "Are you at least as strong as your other self here?" She gestured to EMIYA who had his eyes closed in deep thought.

He opened an eye to regard Shirou with seemingly lazy consideration. Shirou knew better.

"We won't know for sure until he gets to the training room and does the evaluation," said EMIYA calmly, before Shirou could say anything. "But how old were you when you died, Shirou?"

Shirou had a moment of confusion before he realized he had not explained his circumstances adequately. "I haven't died yet," he said. "I'm a Demi-Servant. Sengo Muramasa gave me his powers from a lack of interest on his part to participate in a Holy Grail War."

"Not bad...but that means then, that you can't astralize?" EMIYA asked, putting a hand to his chin in thought.

Shirou paused a moment, taken aback by EMIYA's insight, before nodding. "That's true. I can't feel the ability to do so."

"And a Pseudo-Servant like Lord Ell-Melloi the Second," continued EMIYA. "You still retain most of your personality then, as he did, but it was obviously more pronounced in your case as it seems you can remember your entire lifetime, as opposed to snippets of more memorable years."

"This has nothing to do whether he can face you in a fight or not," Alter grumbled, crossing her arms.

"You know that information is key in any fight, Alter," EMIYA said distractedly, making her scowl at nothing in particular. To Shirou he said, "And I suspect you've already fought me before in your version of the Fifth Holy Grail War? Other, ise you wouldn't be looking at me with your guard up like that."

Shirou nodded, thinking privately to himself that there were too many unnaturally perceptive people in Chaldea. Then again, all Servants could be said to be like that.

"He was not a Servant when you two fought," said Alter looking more interested now.

"Well if I know myself, then I wasn't trying very hard to kill him," scoffed EMIYA.

Alter narrowed her eyes at EMIYA. "Why do such a disservice to an enemy?"

"Well in the first place, a confrontation with yourself?" EMIYA asked rhetorically. "There's nothing decent about that. It'd be an act born of desperation bordering on insanity."

Shirou looked away.

EMIYA paused. "You're joking."

Shirou shrugged halfheartedly. "It was a different timeline."

The Counter Guardian looked bitter. "Damn. How pitiful." He glanced towards Alter, who was looking unimpressed. "Did you deal with Gilgamesh?" He asked.

Alter uncrossed her arms at that. _I'm not sure it's a good idea to encourage her,_ Shirou thought, narrowing his eyes at EMIYA. Who gave him a smug, knowing grin in return. _Damn him._

"Stalled him until Saber arrived," said Shirou shortly.

He felt a tug on his wrist and looked down into the eyes of a pouting Artoria.

"You do not need to call me that here," she said. "Have you forgotten my name already, Shirou?"

His eyes widened but he said, "Right, sorry, I have done that haven't I. Sorry...Artoria."

She hugged him then, resting a soft cheek on his chest. "That sounds better," she murmured, undoubtedly able to hear his heart racing at the gesture.

Alter groaned, and stood up. "I cannot take any more of this," she said, striding past the two lovers towards the exit. "I will watch your evaluation with interest, Shirou Emiya," She called back without looking.

EMIYA shrugged at the two as they separated. "I still need to do some prep work in the kitchen. Artoria can show you around Chaldea since she's been here since the end of Fuyuki. I suppose Gudao or Gabby will call you down to the training room for your evaluation."

"Any idea what I can expect?" Asked Shirou.

EMIYA smirked. "Nervous?"

"You should be," said Shirou blandly.

"Hah!" EMIYA headed towards the kitchen, waving with the back of his hand. He would have looked suave, if not for the apron he was wearing. "Play nice, you two."

Shirou and Artoria both blushed as the Archer's back disappeared behind the kitchen doors.

They looked at each other, each taking note of how the dress she was wearing highlighted her curves and how the lack of any dress on Shirou's upper body highlighted his well-toned body.

Shirou coughed and shifted his cloak to cover most of his chest, as Artoria quietly straightened out some of the wrinkles on her skirt.

Artoria looked up and managed some semblance of composure. "Shall we?"

It was the way she said it.

He knew intellectually that she meant to begin the tour now.

Still.

He could not help but hear in those two words...an _invitation._

He stuttered and said reflexively, "H-Here?"

Artoria's eyes widened and she gaped and her blush crept down to her neck. "No!" She yelled shrilly. "I meant-" She cut herself off.

They looked at each other.

And they burst out laughing.

As their mirth died down, they smiled gently at one another.

"I think we shall have plenty of time for _that_ after I respect our Master's request to show you Chaldea," said Artoria.

"I've waited for decades," said Shirou with a grin. "I can wait for that long I suppose."

She looked at him strangely as they walked out of the cafeteria. "Decades?" She asked. "But you look barely over twenty-five."

"That's a long story..." Shirou mused.

As he spoke to her about his experiences after the Grail War, they walked through Chaldea's halls. Occasionally, he paused so that Artoria could point out any relevant doors or so that he could speak to any of the few Chaldean personnel that were walking through the halls.

His conversations with those men and women were not long. They were all tired and on their way to do their respective jobs, so the most he got from them was a polite hello and a firm request to get out of their way. He obliged them, but made sure they knew they could ask him for help if they needed it, which earned him a few strange looks but no denials.

He met a familiar face as well.

"And this is the recreation room," said Artoria, gesturing towards a pair of glass doors, looking incongruous with the sleek white panel walls they were set into. "It has several different activities available, from the most current games of the video to rooms where one may play sports against simulated opponents or other players."

At that moment the doors parted and a man of English descent and long black hair strode out, wearing a black suit and red tie. An unlit cigarette was held between his lips and light glinted off his rectangular glasses.

"Lord El Melloi II?" Shirou asked, surprised.

"The Sec-" the older Waver Velvet paused as the words registered fully in his mind. "Correct," he said, his curt expression loosening ever so slightly. "I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage?"

"My name is Shirou Emiya," Shirou said, understanding from the lack of recognition that the man was from a different timeline.

"Never heard of your legend," the man said, though not unkindly. "Which likely means you're a Pseudo-Servant like me."

"Yes sir."

Shirou got a raised eyebrow from that. "I don't mind the respect but I don't think I've done so much for you to deserve that." He seemed to notice they were not alone. "Ah, Artoria. I believed it was Hans' turn to show the newer Servants around?"

"I relieved him of his duty in this instance," said Artoria, smiling at Shirou and taking his hand in hers.

Both eyebrows went up at that as Lord El Melloi II looked at Shirou with surprise. "I see," he murmured. "Well, if I may ask, how do you know me?"

"I was a student of yours in another life," said Shirou.

Lord El Melloi II nodded. "I do not remember much about my time as Lord El Melloi II but I do remember having many students while at the Clock Tower." He shrugged. "I hope you weren't as annoying as all the other ones I distinctly remember." the man then muttered something under his breath that sounded something like 'rat scardos'.

Shirou himself thought back to all the times Lord El Melloi II had to cover for his research into his Reality Marble, and decided to say nothing.

"So," Lord El Melloi II said, looking over Shirou with a discerning eye. "A Saber, eh?"

"And Caster," added Shirou. "Sengo Muramasa's powers for Saber and Caster from my own power."

"A Dual-class Servant? Hm. Formidable. Another form of EMIYA? You've taken a different path to your magecraft from him then?"

"That's an accurate assessment," said Shirou, at this point resigned to the fact that every Servant he was going to meet had extraordinary powers of observation.

The man shrugged. "I suppose I'll simply watch your evaluation when it comes then. Or a recording of it anyways." He nodded, starting to walk away. "Until later, Shirou Emiya, Artoria."

"Until later, sir."

Artoria looked at Shirou as Lord El Melloi II's back turned the corner. "I had not known you held Zhuge Liang's vessel in such high regard."

"My acquaintanceship with him came after the war," said Shirou. "He was a good man, if a bit prickly sometimes." He shrugged. "It seems becoming a Demi-Servant did not change him all that much."

"Much like yourself then," she pointed out.

"I'm not so sure about that," said Shirou with a frown. "He himself and EMIYA both said his memories were incomplete, whereas I can remember everything clearly enough."

"And I am eternally grateful for that," said Artoria with a warm smile, which Shirou returned, setting aside his thoughts on his former mentor for the present.

They walked around Chaldea with nothing else of note happening, until finally, Artoria showed him the section where the Servants resided in. Shirou thought he recognized the hallway but was still unsure given how uniform they were throughout the mountain complex.

"Why are there numbers along each room?" Shirou asked curiously.

"It has to do with the order we were summoned in," explained Artoria. "Rather than indicate any sort of hierarchy, it is a way for our Masters to call on other Servants when necessary."

"During Singularities?" Shirou asked.

Artoria nodded. "Especially then," she said. "Sometimes our Masters must change their stratagems as quickly as possible."

"Makes sense," said Shirou approvingly.

Artoria stopped at a room marked with an intricate number seven. And said nothing for several seconds.

"Artoria?" Shirou asked, recognizing the number. "Isn't this Hans' room?"

Her face was turned away from his, but Shirou could feel her hesitancy from her body language alone.

"I have misled you," said Artoria finally. "The corridor wing opposite this one is where male Servants reside."

She waved her hand in front of a door sensor, still not looking at Shirou, and walked quickly inside.

Shirou, not quite knowing what else to do, followed her.

The lights came on automatically, and a spartan room greeted Shirou, with only a well-made bed in the corner and a blue and golden carpet covering most of the floor. On the bed next to a plain white pillow was a small well-worn doll of a lion.

But what Shirou noticed most was Artoria's scent in the air.

She sat upon her bed with a conspicuously loud thump. "Some Servants request larger rooms," she said, looking straight into his eyes, her cheeks lightly flushed. "If they feel the need."

She patted the empty space next to her on the bed.

Shirou was aware of walking over and sitting down next to her.

For a long moment, the couple looked into each other's eyes.

Shirou reached out a hand and cupped her cheek in it. She laid her own hand on of it, and leaned into it with a content smile.

He leaned in with his eyes closed-

 _"Shirou?"_ Gabby's voice asked suddenly in his mind.

He froze in place, feeling Artoria's breath on his lips, suddenly trying very hard not to think murderous thoughts of his contracted Master.

 _"Are you there, Shirou?"_ the guileless and innocent voice came again.

He let out a shuddering breath and pulled back from Artoria, who was looking at him with confusion.

"It's Gabby," he said through gritted teeth. "How do I talk to her?"

A muscle under her right eye twitched, but befitting a king's composure she said simply, "Simply focus on your bond and transmit your thoughts through it."

Shirou closed his eyes and did as she said. _"Yes, Master?"_ He thought.

 _"Oh, it does work! Well, anyways, we've got an evaluation set up for you in the training room now, if you can come over we can get started now!"_

 _"Thank you, Master,"_ Shirou thought without an ounce of gratitude.

 _"Anytime!"_

Shirou opened his eyes and saw Artoria looking at him with a question in her eyes.

"My battle evaluation's been prepared already," said Shirou sourly.

She sighed, tucking back a loose strand of light blonde hair and standing up. "We shall have time for this later I suppose," she said resignedly. "Come then, I shall lead you to the training room."

Shirou gave a quiet little groan of frustration, and followed her out of the door.

* * *

"You look a little grumpy. Broken Phantasms?"

Shirou stood in the middle of the training room, large enough so that could have easily fit a football field in it, staring at his target a hundred meters or so away from him. Behind him, a large window was set in place for observers, or in case the training room was ever full, for Servants to wait. He could not tell just how many Servants were watching him behind that window. There were too many Servant signatures, not to mention any Assassins that might have the Presence Concealment skill.

Beside him, Gudao and his ever-present aide Mashu were directly supervising his displays of power, testing the limits and control of his abilities. It was dull work and felt too much like showing off for his taste, but he could have borne with it much more easily if not for the interruption of something a _long_ time coming by Gabby.

He grunted in response to both Gudao's question and statement.

"Trace, on," he muttered darkly.

Above him, dozens of swords appeared in flashes of blue light.

With a violent swing of his left arm, they rocketed across the grey panel floor and skewered the human-shaped dummy.

With a snap of his fingers, the swords all exploded with the force of a B-rank Noble Phantasm.

When the smoke cleared, the scraps of the dummy were still floating down.

"Uh," said Gudao. "Right. Whatever it was that Gabby did, I'm sorry."

 _"What do you mean,_ you're _sorry?!"_ Gabby's voice blared over a loudspeaker. _"I barely did anything!"_

The male Master sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Moving on...Now that we've seen most of your ranged capabilities, I guess we'd better see what your Noble Phantasm does. It's a Reality Marble like EMIYA's, right?"

Shirou nodded, frowning, but now for a different reason. "Doesn't his take too long to conjure during combat?"

"He can cut down on the incantation time," hedged Gudao. "And it has its uses."

Shirou inclined his head in acceptance. He raised his left arm, palm out.

 _"_ **My body is made of** **swords** _,"_ he intoned.

Under his boots, lines of magic circuits laid themselves onto the floor, setting the boundaries of his Reality Marble.

 **"My blood is of iron and my heart of glass."**

His prana surged through his magic circuits, his cloak flapping in the gusts of wind he was creating.

 **"I have overcome countless battlefields."**

Shirou felt something on the edge of his soul, the faintest ghost of foreboding.

He pushed it aside. He could not allow doubt now.

 **"Not even once retreating."**

Something cracked.

Shirou froze.

He knew the words that came next in his aria.

 _Not even once compromising._

But he could not say them.

Slowly the flow of prana subsided. The magic circuits on the floor shimmered out of existence.

"Shirou?" Gudao finally asked into the silence. "What's wrong?"

Shirou turned to look at Gudao, looking utterly lost. "I can't use my Reality Marble," he said, his thoughts racing. _Problems with the Tracing process? No, my circuits would feel it way before I was unable to get past the first verse._

" _What?!"_ Gabby yelled over the loudspeaker.

"What?" Gudao asked, his eyebrows knit together.

"My soul," Shirou mused, staring down at his hands. "Now that I really come to grips with it, I can tell it's different. I can still use my Reality Marble in Tracing swords and Noble Phantasms alike. But I can't actualize it. I'm missing, no, _overlooking_ something crucial."

Gudao put a hand to his chin. "Could it have something to do with your status as a Demi-Servant?" He asked.

"It's likely," Shirou said after a moment. "Muramasa said my soul was unique, but that doesn't mean it isn't able to be affected by his powers in a way he hadn't thought of."

"Can you remember the name of his Noble Phantasm?" Gudao asked thoughtfully.

He could only shake his head. "I expected to know it upon being summoned, but it doesn't look like the technique survived the transfer."

Gudao sighed. Surprisingly it was not from disappointment like Shirou had expected, but resignation. "It's alright, Shirou," Gudao said, running a hand through his hair. "We can still work around this."

"How so?" Shirou asked.

"Well, your situation isn't entirely unexpected given the power of hindsight. The circumstances of how Mashu became a Demi-Servant were similar to yours as well." Gudao nodded to the Shielder standing by. "She also had problems adapting to her new powers, including having to unlock her Noble Phantasm herself. ."

Shirou acquiesced in the face of prior experience. "I suppose that's a good explanation. How did she unlock her Noble Phantasm?"

Gudao smiled humorlessly. "She was pushed to her limits by a battle-crazy Caster we encountered in Fuyuki."

 _Battle-crazy Caster?_ "I doubt I'll have that opportunity though," said Shirou dubiously.

The male Master shrugged.

" _We'll figure something out_ ," Gabby said optimistically from the observation room. _"We've got 60 legendary heroes of ages past all here in one place! One of them is bound to have at least one good idea. Heck, Hans and Zhuge Liang basically know everything already."_

Words came unbidden to the forefront of his mind.

 _By the way, it does not matter how many burdens one carries, so long as one can go as far as they can with them._

Shirou felt something tug on the surface of his soul, whispering to be heard.

"Give me a minute, Master," whispered Shirou, easing himself down to the floor to sit cross-legged.

Without waiting for a response, he closed his eyes and shut himself off from the rest of the world.

He focused projecting something inside his mind, using the original eight steps of Tracing he had devised so long ago. It was not a sword he was creating, but the only Noble Phantasm he was capable of Tracing without it suffering a degradation in rank.

The sheath that had saved his life so long ago.

 **Judging the concept of creation.**

 **Hypothesizing the basic structure.**

 **Duplicating the composition material.**

 **Imitating the skill of its making.**

 **Sympathizing with the experience of its growth.**

 **Reproducing the accumulated years.**

 **Excelling every manufacturing process.**

 **Binding the illusion into reality.**

There, in the blank landscape of his mind, appeared Avalon as a concept, the purest form it could take as a conceptual artefact.

It helped bridge the gap between what his mind knew as real and the ineffable creation that was his soul.

Shirou opened his eyes and found himself once more in his forest of blades.

But there was a man standing before him, his hair as dark and crimson as the blood dripping off the blade of the katana he held over his shoulder in one hand.

He looked up at Shirou from his inspection of the fingernails of his off-hand and smiled cheerfully at Shirou.

"Took ya long enough," Sengo Muramasa drawled in rustic Japanese. "Was wonderin' when ah'd get a chance to kill ya."

* * *

A/N:

I love cliffhangers, don't you guys?

It's a longer chapter. Couldn't really decide on a suitable ending point.

I love that I can B.S my way through a story with only a semblance of understanding original Nasuverse rules. Fanfic writers like me are just the greatest, aren't they? Rhetorical question really, I'm the scum of the earth.

Further chapters are going to be a little longer in coming, I'm afraid, just like how this one missed the one-week period I had originally aimed for. School will do that for a student.

I think I'm spending too much time in Chaldea. Septem was supposed to come in the next chapter, but barring an extremely out of place time skip, that seems unlikely. Oh, and I'm rewriting the events of Septem, considering that chapter had not the greatest story and far too much UMU-wanking for my taste. Don't get me wrong, I like UMU as much as the next praetor, but Septem was just weird as a narrative.

I'm afraid that I'm making the relationship between Artoria and Shirou too fluffy. Meh. Fun things are fun.

Waver is in his second ascension form because it looks sharp. Hans was in his fourth ascension because that's amazing art too. Artoria is in her FSN casual dress because she's been in Chaldea long enough to get comfortable. Alter is in her third stage ascension dress. EMIYA is in his third ascension stage, without his jacket and...an apron. Because why not.

I always thought the EMIYA that we summon to Chaldea was a version that ultimately came to terms with his ideals betraying him, which is why he's super chill.

Caster Cu hasn't been summoned to this Chaldea yet. That reason being that I forgot he existed in the first chapter when Hans was talking about doppelgangers.

Musashi's summoning banner can't come soon enough.

Next time we see the story of a man misunderstood by history, who was betrayed by the one thing he held dear.


	5. Earning One's Inheritance

**Chapter 5:**

The man in front of him wore only a black hakama. Scars adorned his bare torso, some jagged and some clean and straight. Not old but not any younger than thirty, his features were spotted with old burns that spoke of sparks flying from molten metal.

Shirou Traced Kanshou and Bakuya.

"You're set then," Muramasa said cheerfully, lifting the black katana from his shoulder. "Let's get started."

He took no stance but advanced with an aura about him that reminded Shirou of an avalanche.

Any reluctance Shirou had been harbouring upon seeing his benefactor disappeared.

Kanshou curved up and blocked a line of darkness from cutting his head in half, but at the cost being flung from Shirou's grip.

Bakuya cut towards Muramasa's hamstrings and clanged against the black cross-guard of the man's sword, which Muramasa took as an opportunity to cut one handed at Shirou's legs.

Shirou disengaged by pushing back against the sword, tracing Kanshou again and raising his guard even more warily.

"Huh," said Muramasa, inspecting the edge of his sword. "Ya tough."

 _Not tough enough apparently._ Shirou's cheek was scored from barely being able to parry that first slash, and he felt a dull burning on his shin that felt like a freely bleeding cut. He had not expected a combination of Reinforcement and the married swords' passive ability to completely negate that sword's edge, but he had been sure that he had managed to completely parry and block those strikes.

Even more alarming, Kanshou and Bakuya were already damaged from that simple exchange of blows.

"That sword's blade is longer than it looks," said Shirou. _And I've seen that style of swordsmanship before. But where?_

Shirou's Structural Analysis of the sword Muramasa carried told him that the blade was supposed to be brittle, made with too much carbon in its mix to be anything close to taking blows without shattering. But it was a cursed, demonic blade. In return for any damage to the sword being negated, it could not be sheathed until it had drunk its fill of blood in battle. To further serve that purpose, any wounds it left would heal slowly and bleed worse. Avalon was taxed as it was keeping him from bleeding out in mere minutes.

The name of that sword was Muramasa, after its maker and owner. A B-rank Noble Phantasm in its own right. He could not see past the curse and into what kind of experiences that went into its make either.

"Ya think so?" Muramasa asked thoughtfully. "I think yer just not a good swordsman. I mean-"

He disappeared, leaving a vacuum in space that made the air shriek.

 _BEHIND!_ Shirou threw himself to the side, swinging both blades.

The force of Muramasa's blow shattered Kanshou and Bakuya, throwing him even further to the side and without a weapon for a single moment.

Kanshou and Bakuya Projected in time to block a strike that never came.

Muramasa spun his sword onto his shoulder, and said casually while leaning against a tree: "I ain't even tryin' that hard."

 _His style is familiar. When have I seen it before? That stanceless, formless style._ "You're different from when we last spoke," said Shirou, trying to stall for time.

"Well, that was a different 'me'. The 'true me' ya might perchance say." Muramasa shrugged. "What's the most important basis fer a Servant's power, kiddo?"

"Their legend," Shirou replied, not seeing where he was coming from.

"That's it!" crowed Muramasa, stepping off from the tree and raising his sword once more.

The onslaught made the forest ring with the sound of screeching metal. Muramasa's swordsmanship was almost peerless, and his strength was unbelievable. It was like fighting the wind, always moving from one cut to the next without pause. Even the openings he left in non-vital areas were left untouched, and the few vitals he did leave open were relentlessly slashed or stabbed at.

Shirou found himself two steps from being cornered against the tree at his back and knew he had to do something drastic.

He went on the offensive. If there was no opening in Muramasa's attacks, he had to forge one himself.

Shirou slammed both his blades against the man's blade with all his strength, forcing Muramasa back a step at the cost of shattering his Projections.

It was enough.

Shirou threw himself backwards, throwing a newly Traced pair of swords at Muramasa's neck.

" _Spirit and technique, flawless and firm_."

Muramasa cocked his head to the side, batting the swords aside with contemptuous ease, and easily kept up with Shirou's next flurry of strikes immediately afterwards. "No pride in your swordsmanship," the man said quietly, his voice still carrying above the clash of steel against steel.

" _Our strength rips the mountains_."

Muramasa's eyes widened and he twisted his body to the side to avoid a flash of black steel, even while fending off Shirou's swords.

The first Kanshou Shirou had been disarmed of spun through the air.

"I know these," Muramasa said with a rabid smile. "Gan Jiang's make!"

" _Our swords split the water_."

Shirou feinted a cut and instead threw his swords to the side and projected another pair quickly enough to catch Muramasa's return stroke in a cross guard, locking the man's blade in place for a moment.

" _Our names reach the imperial villa_."

Three swords came curving at the man's neck, spine, and groin.

Shirou let go of his swords to trace yet another pair, the attraction between all the oncoming swords enough to hold even Muramasa's blade in place for the moment.

" _The two of us cannot hold the heavens together_!"

He slashed at the man's ribcage with both swords.

An improvised attack coming from five directions at once. Impossible to block with the one sword Muramasa carried, impossible to dodge in the position he was in.

In that moment, Muramasa muttered something under his breath.

" **Tsumugari Muramasa."**

And Muramasa's blade _blurred._

Seven swords clashed against seven swords, appearing from nowhere yet feeling as if they could not be anywhere else.

But not a movement came from Muramasa's sword.

Shirou did not see so much as somehow grasp what had happened.

In another timeline, Muramasa had freed his sword and batted away Kanshou from cutting his neck.

In another timeline, Muramasa had freed his sword and struck down Bakuya from stabbing his heart.

And so on.

Every instance of where Muramasa's sword could possibly be was made manifest into reality.

This was the pinnacle this blacksmith had reached. A technique born of the frustration and desperation of fighting against a blessing that had turned into a curse. The defiance of Karma itself, in defiance of how history would remember him.

In that frozen moment, Muramasa looked Shirou in the eye and said with a sad smile:

" **Good stuff, kid. Take this and go as far as you can with it**."

As Muramasa cut through him with one sword that was infinite, Shirou felt something break in his mind, something that had been stoppering something else up for a long time.

Knowledge flowed in as a rushing torrent, and everything faded to white.

* * *

A boy grew up alone, with no knowledge of his parenthood beyond what the old blacksmith who had taken him in had told him. _Fools_ , the old man had called them. _Fools who could not be discreet with their emotions and paid the price for it._

Estranged from his peers, the boy had thrown himself into the blacksmith's work, quickly becoming obsessed and proficient enough to get the old man to train him properly. Eventually.

The old man taught to the boy how to create scythes, horseshoes, knives. And later swords. He taught the boy the bitterness of knowing that no matter how fine one's work was, there were some swords created by mortals that had reached the realm of the Gods themselves by the virtue of how well they had been made. It was in this the old man had given the boy an ideal to strive towards, this boy so desperate for purpose and meaning in his life.

As the boy grew into maturity, the old man on his deathbed named him 'Sengo Muramasa', finally referring to him as something other than 'boy' for the first and last time.

And in his youth, after some measure of infamy had truly set the fires of his forges ablaze, Muramasa made a foolish agreement with a certain capricious goddess to create swords that would cut anything and everything.

He cared not as his name quickly became infamous as a forger of death, as his blades became soaked in more and more blood.

But he did care when he was presented with a work of Goro Nyudo Masamune by a travelling monk.

As his finest sword cut even the current of the water, that sword had cut not one thing deserving of harm. Not only steel had sung then, but the river, the stones and the trees had made a beautiful choir that resonated in his soul. Here was a sword that meant more than killing, what other men dictated swords do.

Here was a sword as an embodiment of an ideal.

He exiled himself to where no one could find him, deep in the woods, trying to find the truth of that dead man's swords, trying to separate the curse that was imbued in his own swords.

He saw instead that it was blatantly impossible.

Thus, Muramasa had taken on a new identity, enough to disassociate himself from the man who had made that agreement so long ago. Even if that disassociation was only in his own mind. He stopped forging swords, forsaken as he was by his ideals. He mastered the art of the sword as he had mastered the forging of them.

He had even picked up a child along the way-

 _Sasaki Kojiro?  
_

-But that boy was troubling in his own way. He had not seen much of himself in that child when he had taken him up, and he never truly did. Too relaxed about everything except the swinging of a sword. The one thing that mattered the least to Muramasa at the time. To him, learning the art of swordsmanship was a means to an end.

Time passed. It had been so long he had thought the goddess had forgotten about him.

He was nearly there. Where one sword's forging could not sever his curse, his swordsmanship seemed poised to be able to slay the demon in his heart.

Yet years long for man are but eye blinks to the immortal.

He lost his life to her, of course. One does not try to break an agreement with a goddess like her so lightly.

He left behind only one regret, and perhaps it was inconsequential.

 _I would have liked to see something of mine truly live._

* * *

Shirou opened his eyes.

He lay on his back in a field of grass with no trees in sight. A sun shed light from a cloudless sky, but not somehow not blindingly so. His body felt whole, the injuries made by Muramasa's blade gone.

"I've had enough of forests to last a lifetime," said a gravelly voice to his right quietly. "And even then, some."

Shirou sat up and saw mere meters away from him an old man sitting on the grass cross-legged, his back to him.

He wore roughly-sewn robes of white, clearly dirtied and rumpled. He looked wizened and brought low by age, but some strands of his hair still retained their crimson colouring.

"Muramasa?" Shirou asked.

The old man turned and looked at Shirou with brilliant golden eyes. "Emiya Shirou. I had not known I had left behind descendants when I passed..and yet here we are."

Shirou looked around. An endless plain of grass stretched dizzily into the horizon, each blade tinted a light grey.

This was undoubtedly a world of steel, but it was not his.

"This is the answer I reached," proclaimed the old Muramasa with a short sweep of his arm. "An answer that could only be reached after you understood all the aspects of my life, but at the same time you could only reach that understanding due to our souls being so similar."

Shirou ran a hand through the grass. He felt the truth of them as his fingers brushed against the soft metal. _Each of these is one sword,_ he realized _. One sword's possibilities. This_ is _the Tsumugari Muramasa._

"Your Reality Marble?" He asked.

"Reality Marble?" Muramasa raised an eyebrow.

"Your soul, I guess." Shirou amended. Apparently the sword-smith did not know much about magecraft.

Muramasa shrugged. "It's a good description as any."

Shirou looked the man over more critically. "Why do you look so..."

"This was my age when I died."

"But your appearance just now..."

"As I said, the only way you would understand my life is if you understood all its aspects. Yes, you understood the works I left behind as well as my true character, even. But you were missing something crucial, something that makes me able to be summoned as a Servant despite not being a true Heroic Spirit."

Muramasa gestured to himself.

"Your legend," Shirou realized. "How history depicted you. That was what I just fought."

"Aye," said Muramasa tiredly, golden eyes downcast. "I apologize for any unpleasantness you experienced. It wasn't until later, at the age of this current form, that I realized her curse affected my dealings with others as well." The old man rubbed at his chin. "I suppose that's why Tsuda grew up the way he did." He grunted. "I never did right by him, did I?"

Shirou chose not to say anything. Sasaki Kojiro had been trained by Muramasa, if only reluctantly. Like Kiritsugu had only given Shirou the very basics of magecraft, Muramasa had given Kojiro tuition that was bare-bones. It was a wonder the man had grown to be the swordsman he was.

No, perhaps it was because of Muramasa's strange tuition that Kojiro had mastered what he had. A sort of man who devoted the utmost effort into cutting swallows down with only a sword.

"I might meet him," said Shirou, thinking of Chaldea's large catalogue of Servants.

"Really? Well that's something." Muramasa shook his head. "I didn't expect you to meet your beloved either. What a strange set of circumstances you find yourself in, successor."

Shirou nodded and looked up at the boundless azure sky. Such peace he felt just sitting here.

"You really were content, weren't you?"

Muramasa scratched behind an ear. "What's that?"

Shirou hesitated. _Do I really want to know?_ "Forsaking your ideals."

The old man was silent for a moment. "At the time," he said slowly. "It felt like giving up my left arm. Giving up the purpose I had inherited from my old man. but it isn't a bad thing to lack a great purpose in your life, as long as you give yourself any purpose at all."

Shirou looked at the old man, understanding dawning. "It doesn't matter how many burdens you carry..."

"As long as you go as far as you can with them. It goes both ways." Muramasa finished with a dry smile. "Thank the author for me for bringing you here. I liked him. A better man than he gives himself credit for."

"You two have something in common then."

Muramasa scratched with a gnarled finger at his temple. "Don't tease this old man," he grumbled.

"I was being serious," denied Shirou.

Muramasa pursed his lips. He placed his hands on his knees and said, "Shirou, I was not a good man. I did not do good things, nor am I even known as the greatest sword smith of a small island country. I was only ever good at what I did. I crafted swords knowing they would kill people, I even spent much my life trying craft a sword that would allow me to sever myself from my own fate, my own karma. An act that cost me the very thing I was trying to achieve."

"You aren't the one who put the curse on your swords."

"I made peace with my sins a long time ago," said Muramasa.

"You defied a goddess once you realized where your ideals led you."

"Sucessor..."

"I'm not praising you," said Shirou with a faint smile. "Just telling it how it is."

Muramasa squinted at him, and let out a huff. "Kids these days. Where did the concept of a venerable elder go?"

Shirou looked back up at the sky with a smile. "Age is only a suggestion of wisdom. I've lived for decades and I still feel like the idiot I was in my youth."

"Isn't that the truth," muttered Muramasa. "Well, in any event, you should be able to use that 'Reality Marble' of yours now."

Shirou frowned. "I don't feel any different."

"You will once you leave this place."

"That sounded ominous."

"Hrm. It wasn't meant to be. You'll be fine. Your problem came from the fact that no matter how similar our two souls were, we were still different people from different eras, and the 'melding' I suppose still had lasting side effects. After reconciling yourself with my legend just now, you should just feel more of my powers available to you."

"Like your Tsumugari Muramasa," murmured Shirou.

"It'll be yours to make your own," said Muramasa with a grin. "Like all the other swords I've made, and all the other swords I've seen." He frowned slightly. "I'm a little envious of your magic. No need for a forge at all to create your works."

"I'm not much good for much else," said Shirou dismissively.

Muramasa sighed. "We see the best in people even when they don't see it themselves. Did your parents teach you that?"

"I don't know," said Shirou, shrugging. "I lost my memories of them in a fire."

"I see. A shame," said Muramasa, turning away for a moment. "Tragedy seems to have dogged both our steps in life."

"I have no regrets."

Muramasa turned to face him once more and smiled. "Likewise, my friend." He looked up. "I should let you know this will be the last time we talk like this."

"This is the last of your power I have to take," stated Shirou.

"Indeed. In truth, you could have simply woken up to face your Master and demonstrated your potential as soon as my legend had conceded it to you, but I wanted one last chance to speak to you before you went off on your path."

"About what?"

"Things," said Muramasa simply. "Anything. A peaceful sort of talk."

And Shirou obliged the tired old man as long as he could.

They spoke of the similarities between their lives that had not already been retreaded. They spoke of differences. Muramasa was surprised at Shirou's old hobby of housework, and Shirou was in turn surprised at Muramasa's hobby of bird-watching. Both had questioned the other and found valid points in each after a discussion.

The talk had come around to wives, a topic Muramasa was most interested in, to Shirou's dismay, when Shirou felt something pulling at him. Something light but definite, like a puppy tugging at his shoes for attention.

Muramasa seemed to have felt it too. "Ah, that must be your Master's call," he said, unfolding his legs and standing up with a wince. "It was a good talk. I am not sad to see our acquaintanceship end like this."

"Neither am I," said Shirou. "I've said this before, but I guess I'll say this again: It was an honor, Sengo Muramasa."

The old man smiled broadly, teeth gleaming in the sunlight. "Likewise, successor. Likewise."

Shirou closed his eyes and pulled back at the summons.

And this world of steel collapsed in a flash of white.

* * *

A/N:

My writing could always use some work. This piece more so than usual I think. A little short too.

Update took a while because school. I've things due now that I had not before. More updates will likely take this long, unfortunately unless something dreadful happens.

I got ridiculously lucky with rolls on both JP and NA FGO. Musashi in two ten-rolls is good enough, but in NA?

Jeanne in one ticket. Tamamo in one ten-roll. And Orion and Atanyanta in the other. All these rolls done back to back.

The hunt for mats begins...after my mid terms.

Thank you for reading this fic. I appreciate any and all criticism. This is a learning process for me, and the more information I get about my writing the better I get. So you guys can talk as much smack as you want, don't hold back.


	6. Showing Off

**Chapter 6:**

 _Crunch, crunch._

Artoria sat patiently as she watched Shirou Trace weapons for Gudao. Gabby stood a few steps away from her, a microphone set up in front of her. Occasionally Gabby would give Shirou a question, or a thoughtful noise that signalled she had come up with a use for Shirou's abilities on the battlefield.

 _Crunch, crunch._

Lily sat patiently and conferred quietly with Zhuge Liang, no, Lord El Melloi the Second. From what Artoria could hear of their conversation, they were speaking of systems of governance and how those systems might be applied to Britain. Artoria could respect her younger self's ambition to succeed where she had failed, but the point to it was moot. Servant's did not retain the memories they made upon being summoned, with herself as an exception.

History was cruel in dictating that Lily would become her, would eventually reach the top of that sunset hill someday. But that was something for later, after their mission to save the world was over.

 _Crunch, crunch._

Cu Chulainn was here as well, his hands held together behind his head as he lounged in his seat. The man made a habit of watching the battle evaluations of the new Servants. But...

 _Crunch, crunch._

 _I suppose Da Vinci crafted him such a luridly designed shirt,_ she thought, taking a glance at the so-called 'Hawaiian' shirt. It was a riotous display of bright green, yellow, and orange. He wore black trousers as well but such a sombre accessory only seemed to heighten the ridiculousness that was this shirt.

Artoria almost preferred the blue tights.

 _Crunch, crunch._

Sitting next to Cu Chulainn was EMIYA in his regular garb, looking as if he wanted to be anywhere else in the world now, but concentrating on Shirou's evaluation with as much focus as the Lancer was.

 _Crunch, crunch._

Enough was enough. Artoria took a deep breath. "You need not be so loud," she said stonily.

"Hmf," said Alter, who was eating potato chips from a bag almost as tall as she was.

"She's got a point you know," said Lily with a frown.

"Hmf."

 _Crunch, crunch._

Lily sighed, realizing when someone was being obstinate for the sake of it.

"So how did this Shirou's Holy Grail War go, Artoria?" asked EMIYA.

"The mother of Chaldea's at work again." Cu Chulainn sang under his breath.

 _Crunch, crunch._

EMIYA's pacifying expression turned blank. "It's unfortunate I cannot understand the mewling of a dog," said EMIYA off-handedly. "Else that might have actually been a little insulting."

Cu Chulainn unlaced his fingers and sat up straighter. "What'd you just say?"

 _Crunch, crunch._

"Cu," said Gabby without looking away from the practise field. "Let it go. EMIYA, that was uncalled for. And Alter?"

The pale Servant paused chewing.

Gabby turned around smiled at the Servant, amber eyes bright as light glinting off the edge of a sword. "That's beginning to annoy me too."

"...hm." Alter swallowed.

Gabby nodded firmly, before turning back to the microphone and responding loudly to something Gudao had said. "What do you mean _you're_ sorry?! I barely did anything!"

Artoria turned to EMIYA to answer his old question.

"He grew remarkably," said Artoria. "In the span of seven days, he progressed from a self-described 'third-rate magus' to someone who was capable of holding his ground against Gilgamesh for a time."

Cu Chulainn scoffed. "You're saying that a guy like this once fought the King of Heroes?" He drawled derisively, jabbing a thumb to his right. EMIYA scowled.

"Even as a human, he lasted at least longer than you did, yes," said Artoria blandly.

"Oi," growled Cu Chulainn, a muscle above his eye twitching.

"You deserved that one, Cu," said Gabby off-handedly.

Artoria sighed. The enmity between these two was unquestionably difficult at times to settle down, and simply too draining to try when they truly got into the swing of it.

Swords appeared in the air above Shirou, flashing forward to destroy a training dummy moments later.

"Hey, EMIYA," Cu drawled.

"What is it now?" said EMIYA irritably.

"What can you do that he can't?"

EMIYA's fingers twitched as if about to grasp something. "His evaluation's not over yet."

"Give it your best guess then."

"I'd prefer to keep _you_ guessing."

"Bastard."

EMIYA smirked. "Guilty."

Alter scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Boys," she muttered.

" **My body is made of swords."**

All eyes swivelled once more towards the glass, as Shirou held out his left arm over the field, shrouded in a haze of glowing blue prana.

"That's one difference already," said EMIYA quietly. Artoria inclined her head.

 **"My blood is of iron and my heart of glass."**

"Slow to start up ain't it?" muttered Cu Chulainn.

 **"I have overcome countless battlefields,"**

"You haven't even seen what he's doing yet," reminded Lily.

Cu Chulainn shrugged. "If that Noble Phantasm's anything like this guy's here, then it ain't anything I can't handle."

"Not everyone has Protection from Arrows," said EMIYA with a scowl.

 **"Not even once retreating."**

A moment of silence. It stretched on, and EMIYA vocalized what Artoria was thinking:

"Something's wrong."

Shirou slowly lowered his arm, turning to Gudao. His next words were as clear as they were shocking. "I can't use my Reality Marble," he said, amber eyes wide.

"What?!" Yelled Gabby over the microphone.

"What?" said EMIYA.

"Hah?" said Cu Chulainn.

"What," said Alter flatly.

Lord El Melloi II said nothing as he held his chin, considering. Shirou and Gudao were speaking now in concerned tones, but their conversation was quieter, the words difficult to pick up.

"What's a Reality Marble?" asked Lily, confused.

"An advanced form of magecraft," Lord El Melloi II said distractedly. "It projects one's inner world into reality. EMIYA's younger counterpart seems to possess one but for whatever reason..." He trailed off, muttering under his breath.

"Artoria?"

She blinked and looked at EMIYA.

"Any thoughts?" He asked. Gabby was babbling into the microphone some more, but Artoria barely heard her.

She shook her head slowly. "I know of some magecraft, but nothing as complicated as a Reality Marble."

"Well, you know this Shirou better than anyone and you've seen my Unlimited Blade Works. What were the differences that you saw in your time?"

She shook her head. "I apologize for giving that impression. I was not there to see what it looked like when he used his Reality Marble. He faced Gilgamesh alone, and it was after his Reality Marble collapsed that together we defeated the King of Heroes."

"We'll figure something out," Gabby said optimistically. "We've got 60 legendary heroes of ages past all here in one place! One of them is bound to have at least one good idea. Heck, Hans and Zhuge Liang basically know everything already."

Lord El Melloi II turned an annoyed look at the Master. "That is entirely inaccurate."

Gabby looked at him expectantly and gestured to Shirou. "Well, what do you got Mister Clocktower-Mage-Three-Kingdoms-Strategic-Genius-Man?"

Mister Clocktower-Mage-Three-Kingdoms-Strategic-Genius-Man rolled his eyes, reaching into his coat and pulling out a cigarette, which EMIYA promptly plucked out of his hands.

At Lord El Melloi II's glare, EMIYA pointed at Lily, who was looking amused.

Lord El Melloi II shook the flames from his fingertip and crossed his arms. "A few unlikely theories."

"Well, hit me."

"I'll simplify, I suppose," he muttered, clearing his throat. "First is that Shirou may have had some damage done to his soul from a conceptual weapon, but given how recent his summoning was and the lack of combat he's faced so far, this is not likely. Or this 'block' may be due to his Saint Graph being incomplete as a result of his Pseudo-Servant status."

Artoria frowned. Saint Graphs were the basis for a Servant's materialization. A core of how a Servant's powers and appearance that was recorded in Chaldea. Even in Singularities, Gudao and Gabby only used shadows of Saint Graphs to summon Servants from Chaldea, as the risk of destroying a Saint Graph was too high.

"Incomplete?" asked Gabby.

"Some aspects of a Servant's legend are not always present once they are summoned. Some aspects may even be highlighted over others," said Lord El Melloi II. "Case in point, Caesar or Sasaki Koujirou. Why was Caesar not a Rider or Sasaki Koujirou a Saber?" He shrugged. "Perhaps Chaldea's summoning system could not, at that moment of summoning, create a suitable Saint Graph. As a Pseudo-Servant myself, my Saint Graph is markedly different from that of regular Servants, and Shirou is likely no exception."

"I guess this makes sense," said Gabby, crossing her arms in thought. "But t _hat_ Caesar could have been a Rider?"

Lord El Melloi II opened his mouth to explain further when light flared from the practise field, luminescent blue.

* * *

By the time the light had died down Artoria and Gabby had reached Gudao's side and Mashu was just lowering her guard.

The Pseudo-Servant himself sat almost deadly still. His eyes were closed and the only sign of life the excruciatingly slow rise and fall of his chest.

Artoria kneeled by Shirou's side, one of her hands hovering over his shoulder, not quite touching but still feeling the intense heat generated by his magic circuits working overtime.

She looked up. "What is wrong with him?" She asked Gudao. Calmly.

Gudao shook his head. "That's the thing. I can't feel anything from him over the bond. Gabby?"

His sister came back to herself with a start. "Same here," she said quietly. "I've never had a connection with a Servant feel so weak before."

Gudao nodded and said, "The only thing comparable to that for me would have been..." Something occurred to him. "Huh. Just before Mashu unlocked her Lord Chaldeas."

"You never told me that, senpai!" said Mashu with surprise.

"I was worried about you enough as it was," Gudao said with a sheepish smile.

"But that all happened in the middle of the Fuyuki Singularity, didn't it?" asked Gabby loudly as Mashu began mumbling in a blushing mess. "Chaldea is practically our own backyard!"

"And Caster Cu isn't around, I get that," said Gudao.

"Did he say anything before sitting down?" Asked Artoria.

"Not much. He just asked for a minute before he sat down and nearly bowled me over with that burst of prana."

"Well, it's been about a minute already," muttered Gabby. "So you're saying that he's going to come out of this with his Noble Phantasm unlocked? Just like that, after we made all that fuss about it?"

Gudao shrugged. "He's in a weird position even as a Pseudo-Servant. I don't know. Maybe?"

None of this mattered so much to Artoria as the strong possibility that he would be okay. She rested her hands on top of her lap. "All we can do is wait, then?"

Gudao tapped the side of his head with a finger. "I've been sending messages to him as much as I can, but for you, I guess..." Gudao looked apologetic.

"He will simply have much to explain when he awakes," said Artoria. She sighed, frowning at his profile.

There were some things that never changed about the man named Shirou Emiya. Whether it was as EMIYA charging at dragons in Orleans or recklessly going into a near-coma. She grasped one of his hands in her own and held it firmly.

She did not know exactly what was going on, but she would be there for him regardless.

* * *

Lily and EMIYA stepped onto the field. The other Servants had chosen to stay in the observation booth, having had not much personal interest in the matter. Alter and Cu Chulainn, in particular, looked like they were about ready to leave.

Lily's eyes widened at seeing Shirou and her older self together.

At seeing Artoria gazing at Shirou's face with loving eyes.

"Oh," said Lily, stopping in place for a split second and feeling like heading back through the door again and punching something.

"What's wrong?" said EMIYA, glancing at her.

She shook her head quickly. Over before it began. "It's nothing," she said.

EMIYA followed her and her line of sight.

"Oh," he remarked, putting two and two together. "Really?" He didn't sound sure if the question was directed at Shirou or Lily.

Lily blushed. "It doesn't really matter that much," she said quietly.

"I'm just surprised," said EMIYA. "I hadn't thought...well, it makes sense I guess."

"What does?" Lily asked in spite of herself.

"I might be mistaken."

"Still."

EMIYA shrugged. "You're really similar to each other."

"Well, that goes without saying," said Lily a little sourly.

"No, not you and her. I meant you and Shirou."

Lily stared. "Sorry?"

EMIYA shrugged and started walking. "We only spoke for a little while, but I can tell that much."

She caught up with him quickly. "What do we have in common then?"

"Well, you're both Sabers for one." He smirked under her unimpressed stare. "You both desire to protect people dear to you, you're both idealistic despite knowing where those convictions will lead to at their conclusion," said EMIYA, holding up fingers and lowering them one by one. "And you both actually have future selves to talk to and learn from, but most of all, honestly?" He chuckled, reaching up and ruffling her hair roughly. "You're both stubborn."

She brushed off EMIYA's hand with a small smile. "You're right about that."

Just as they said their greetings to their Masters, bright blue light flared once more from the man sitting down.

* * *

The first thing he felt upon coming back to the world was the warmth of something in his left hand. Soft but firm.

Shirou opened his eyes and looked to his left, into a pair of deep emerald eyes that he knew and loved. He lifted up his hand and held her fingers against his cheek, closing his eyes and feeling their warmth.

"Are my fingers so dear to you?" He heard Artoria say with laughter in her voice.

"Every part of you is so dear to me," said Shirou softly.

He felt her fingers turn warmer and opened his eyes to see her blushing to the very roots of her golden hair, looking away bashfully.

"That was terrible," Artoria mumbled. "But effective."

Shirou smiled and looked around at their audience.

Gudao had his eyebrows raised and Gabby scratched at the back of her neck, both of their faces tinted red. Lily was looking at her feet with her lips pursed and EMIYA had his arms crossed, looking suitably dry about the display of affection.

Mashu, curiously enough, was looking envious and shooting glances towards Gudao.

He stood up slowly, still holding hands with Artoria, and lowered his head towards his Masters. "Sorry if I made you worried. I was just settling things with Muramasa."

"You did make us worried," said Gudao adopting a more serious expression. "Our bond almost disappeared. If I didn't have some experience with that and we were out in the middle of a supply run or a Singularity even, we might have assumed the worst and had to use a Command Seal to bring you back."

Gabby smirked and lightly punched Gudao in the shoulder. "We're just glad that we didn't lose a Servant on the same day we summoned him. That would have ruined our perfect record," she teased. "Now what's this about 'settling things with Muramasa'?"

Shirou explained what he had experienced inside his mind, to general astonishment.

"So you won't be doing this again?" asked Artoria sternly.

Shirou nodded. "Muramasa said this was the last of his power I had to take. I won't be worrying you in the future," he said with a smile.

"That's good," she said, tightening her grip on his hand.

"Agreed," said Gudao. "Shirou, are you still up to showing us your Noble Phantasm then, now that you can actually use it?"

"You don't have to," Gabby said quickly. "If you're not feeling too great we can do this some other time."

"It's alright," Shirou assured them. "I even think..."

He closed his eyes and checked something. His magic circuits along the left side of his body pulsed brightly with bright teal light and he nodded absent-mindedly to himself.

He could do _that_ now. What was once a technique he would only use in desperation was now something he could do easily with the power he had taken from Muramasa and the massive prana reserves of Chaldea.

"Are you fine with seeing it now?" He asked, his eyes still closed.

"I'm cool with it," said Gabby.

"Sure," agreed Gudao.

Shirou nodded and opened his eyes. He glanced around at the people who he would take into his Reality Marble. They were looking on with clear interest.

The prana gathered all at once, and Shirou found the words come as easily as they ever had.

" **Unlimited Blade Works."**

* * *

He was in his forest of blades once more. Somehow he was not surprised to see the forest floor covered not with steel-grey tree roots but with tall grass up to his knees, verdant green tinged with outlines of steel grey.

But he was surprised to see a sun high in the sky, casting the shadow of the canopy onto the ground. The light it gave off was warm and nothing more or less. A familiar kind of light. Shirou looked down at Artoria, who had just turned to look at him. They smiled at each other in the shared understanding of what that light meant.

Shirou could have sworn he felt the light get ever slightly warmer in that moment.

The Masters and Lily looked around with wide eyes at the forest.

"What happened to your aria?" EMIYA asked quietly, looking at Shirou.

"I can still invoke my Unlimited Blade Works using an aria," explained Shirou. "And if I do my version's Projections take a half a rank or so downgrade from their original versions. But that costs a lot more prana and time. I didn't want to burden Chaldea and those two any more than was necessary," he said to the masters, who turned to look at him.

"You don't really have to worry about that from now on," said Gudao. "Aside from some really ridiculously prana heavy Noble Phantasms, like Gilgamesh's trump card, we've practically got prana to burn."

Shirou raised his eyebrows. "I'll keep that in mind," he said, already thinking about his more prana intensive Projections.

"I have some questions about this Reality Marble though," said Gabby as she spun around in place, looking at everything again. "What are these trees? When I touched them they were cold, and this grass is really weird too."

"The trees are a...metaphor, I guess. Each one is a representation of a weapon I have stored."

Shirou let go of Artoria's hand slowly and held out his left hand towards the tree closest to him, and in a flash of blue sparks, it transformed into an unforgettable weapon. The air seemed to sing as the axe-blade's hilt flew into his hand.

The crude axe-blade had been unwieldy the first time he had lifted it, lacking the strength to use it properly as a human, needing to rely on the weapon's own history to get any use out of it.

As a Servant, however, he rested it on his shoulder comfortably.

"That weapon," said EMIYA bitterly.

Something in his other self's voice quashed the little pride he felt in showing off.

"She didn't make it in your timeline, did she?" asked Shirou quietly. Artoria's eyes were wide.

EMIYA looked away.

Shirou let go of the axe-sword, letting it disappear. The tree reappeared at the same time in its original place.

"Sorry," Shirou muttered, scratching at his nape.

"It was a long time ago," said EMIYA, shaking his head. "But something about this place just brings out the memories for me easier." The Archer looked up at the canopy with a faraway look in his steel grey eyes. The golden light was not blinding, but he squinted all the same.

"Gilgamesh was one of our enemies in both of our Grail Wars," explained Shirou to Lily and the Masters. "In my timeline, he tried to kill my sister, but we stopped him. In EMIYA's..."

"He turned her into a Grail that would have destroyed the world if Saber and I hadn't destroyed it." said EMIYA. "It was the moment I truly realized I couldn't save everyone."

"EMIYA," Gudao said softly.

"I know, Ritsuka," said the Archer, shaking his head. "I know."

Gabby let out a heavy breath and tried to change the subject. "So this Reality Marble works the same way that EMIYA's does? You can 'store' weapons and armours with a look and Trace it almost perfectly in the real world based on prana cost, and you can spam them against enemies when you bring them into this world?"

Shirou nodded. "That's essentially correct. But I still haven't shown you Muramasa's Noble Phantasm. A sword 'technique' named the Tsumugari Muramasa."

"What do you mean by technique?" asked Artoria, noticing his both his unusual inflexion and willingness to change the topic.

"It's like Sasaki Koujirou's Noble Phantasm. It's an expression of skill so great it becomes a Noble Phantasm. But the Tsumugari Muramasa is different from the Tsubame Gaeshi in a lot of ways. I'll show you first, I guess. EMIYA, can you trace Kanshou and Bakuya?"

EMIYA looked curious in spite of himself and did so.

Shirou was about to do the same when he heard something from the blades. A familiar tune that had echoed when he had brought forth Berserker's axe-blade but was now ringing out in earnest as he looked at Kanshou and Bakuya. Muramasa's memories told him the old man had called this a 'blacksmith's song'. A song he had heard when creating great, but not divine, works.

A song he heard emanating from all things, not just the sword itself, upon looking upon a divine work.

Shirou had in his mind the recorded history of Kanshou and Bakuya from his Structural analysis, the knowledge of forging Muramasa had acquired in life, the complete understanding of Muramasa's peerless swordsmanship, and the complete understanding of what kind of weapon his style and the Tsumugari Muramasa would best fit.

So as he Traced, he Traced one blade.

And in a flash of blue light, Kanshou and Bakuya II appeared in his left hand.

It was a sword that, if forged by regular means, was impractical. It was a double-edged sword, it's hundred centimetre blade flaring wider towards the hilt and crossguard, which was decorated by a Yin and Yang circle at its centre. The blade was split down the middle, one side black and covered with a hexagonal pattern, and the other side white, with faint grey waves along its surface.

"That's Kanshou and Bakuya," said EMIYA, clearly surprised. He lowered his own swords and chuckled. "You've married the Married Swords."

Shirou swung Kanshou and Bakuya II once. The song faded but was still sweet, almost even content with the quality of the work he had created. "This is just the best form for both I and Muramasa to fight in," mused Shirou. "The original blades lacked purpose, as I'm sure you knew already."

"True enough," said EMIYA, raising his twin swords up once more. "Now, are you going to come at me or not?"

Shirou raised an eyebrow. "I was just going to show our Master's my other Noble Phantasm, but if you want to be beaten that badly..."

EMIYA smirked. "Oho? Someone's confident."

As one, the two turned to Gabby and Gudao. The former was nodding enthusiastically, while the latter shook his head. Gabby turned to look at him quizzically and Gudao responded with a dead-eyed stare. Gabby folded her arms and frowned with disapproval at Gudao, who sighed and threw up his hands.

"Since Gabby says she's going to push the paperwork onto me if I don't consent to this, you guys can beat each other up. Just as long as there's only swordplay involved. No blowing stuff up, okay?"

"I'll give you guys the signal then!" said Gabby with a bright smile. "On three!"

EMIYA and Shirou nodded, as they readied themselves. EMIYA crossed Kanshou and Bakuya out in front of him and set his feet nearly shoulder-length apart. Shirou merely held Kanshou and Bakuya II at his side, blade parallel to the ground. Artoria and Lily both frowned at this display of unorthodox swordsmanship, with Lily even crossing her arms in disapproval.

Artoria's expression was less severe as she was familiar with their respective styles, but to her surprise, Shirou's new style reminded her of a certain False Assassin's.

The Archer's eyes narrowed. "Well isn't that something," he said.

"Really," said Shirou lightly, "It's nothing."

"One," said Gabby, apparently content to allow them pre-fight banter.

"Muramasa's swordsmanship was peerless in his lifetime," said Shirou. "And I've inherited all of his skills seamlessly. Did you fight Sasaki Koujirou in your Grail War?"

"Two!"

EMIYA lost all trace of emotion in his expression and gripped Kanshou and Bakuya more tightly.

"Muramasa was that man's master."

"This changes nothing," said EMIYA, his eyes focusing entirely on the opponent in front of him.

 _That's right,_ thought Shirou. _That's the kind of look I want from you._

"Three!"

* * *

A/N:

Sorry for the long delay. As I said, school is really putting the hurt on me and I'm not exactly a consistent writer as well so that makes these updates hard to come by. Doesn't help that I'm trying to get my FGO JP account back after my backup software didn't save my memos, where my bind code was located, so I'm sweating over losing my multi-SSR account forever. Special thanks to two people who helpfully forwarded information I forgot from my friends list, you two are great :D.

Reading over Septem again makes me really question my ability to salvage that train wreck though, my god. And considering the Saint Graph shadow thing from EoR 3 I'm thinking of confining Septem to a small chapter or so with MuramaShirou only being summoned for a few fights. Maybe. I DON'T REALLY KNOW, I'VE GOT ONLY FAINT STUFF PLANNED OUT.

Also, I moved the Merlin interlude from this story to another story for interludes and omakes. Sorry for the confusion I caused! That story will be exactly what is written on the tin, stuff that doesn't fit in the current continuity, but too fun for me to drop. I have a few ideas, but nothing really substantial yet, so I'm just leaving that option open.

Thanks for the reviews and kind words. They really do warm my heart, and I really do encourage constructive criticism. I don't really know what a few reviews meant by me deleting prior reviews since I don't remember doing anything of the sort, but I ticked off the moderation period so that might have caused it? I don't know.

I want to make clear once again: feel free to poke as many holes in this story as you want, as long you back those holes up with reasons. If you don't do that, then really you're just being a dickhead and nobody likes those.

Next time we see bleeding, of a sort.


	7. An Ending And A Beginning

_The sword is many things, little Sengo. It is a symbol of hope, of war, sometimes both at once._

 _But at its core, it is merely a length of metal that can hold an edge with a handle. Merely a tool, and an underused one at that._

 _You need not craft a sword to go to war. An axe, spear, or hammer will do, as well as serving even in times of peace._

 _A sword cannot crush armour and shape it like a hammer can, nor can it rend flesh and timber like an axe can, nor even keep the wolves at bay as a spear can._

 _A sword is by itself devoid of a true, guiding purpose._

 _How does a sword attain a true purpose, you may ask?_

 _No? Well, I will tell you anyways. Such knowledge is useful on days beset by Raijin and his ilk. And even on others, oddly enough._

 _Such an aspiring sword needs two things:_

 _A wielder of peerless skill and a blacksmith like dear Masamune or charming Volund._

 _When such a sword is swung to its fullest potential it becomes capable of even slaying a god._

 _As well as one's fate, of course._

 _Simple, no?_

 _-_ That nameless travelling monk.

* * *

Kanshou and Bakuya II met Kanshou in a spray of sparks.

Instead of pressing against the blade, Shirou slammed his left hand against the bottom of his hilt, forcing Kanshou away. He caught the falling Bakuya on his crossguard, turning the sword to slash against EMIYA's chest in one continuous motion.

The Archer grunted, flinging himself backwards and bringing Kanshou back around to parry the riposte as he retreated.

Shirou advanced, the edge of his blade brushing by the grass with the sound of rasping steel.

EMIYA threw both swords at Shirou, instantly tracing two more afterwards and throwing them as well.

 _So that's what he's doing?,_ thought Shirou, recognizing where this would lead.

Shirou set his feet, feeling the cool earth under the grass.

He activated Communion with Nature. As a passive skill inherited from Muramasa, it made his swordsmanship-Muramasa's swordsmanship-unable to be seen through or predicted. As an active skill, however...

Time slowed, and an Awareness spread out him in nine green rings that pulsed in time with each of his heartbeats. The area each ring covered felt more familiar as they came close to his feet. The first ring, a hands length out from his body, felt as if the grass blades themselves were a part of him that he could feel when they moved.

For Communion with Nature to be active, it required him to set both feet on the ground. This limited his range of movement but gave him perception on a level that rivalled Artoria's own Instinct.

EMIYA was coming at him behind the flying blades, on the border of his ninth ring. But not the pressing concern.

The first two swords tapped the edge of his Shirou's seventh ring. he cut a grey line through them all with one swing, scattering solid projected steel into motes of prana.

He was calm even as the steely grey of EMIYA's eyes came to be right on top of his second circle, an arm's length away.

He slid a foot backwards as EMIYA stepped in with a slash.

Kanshou extended into the first ring, aiming for his neck.

Time slowed.

Shirou reached out with his left hand and pushed two fingers on the side of the black blade while slashing forward right-handed.

Strands of red hair fell amidst sparks of metal clanging against metal. Somehow, EMIYA had barely blocked his strike.

"That was weird," murmured the Archer under his breath.

Shirou disengaged, and the fight began again.

The exchange felt to Shirou like a dance that had already been played out to the point of becoming a routine. Every swing EMIYA made he repelled with ease, and though he knew how EMIYA's style functioned he was already finding it difficult to ignore the obvious openings the Archer left in his guard. Muramasa had been able to do it to him, but that ability seemed related more to conscious thought than actual skill.

But Shirou still knew how EMIYA fought in the broader sense.

He was waiting for the moment when his alternate self would present a true opening.

Which he did, eventually.

And like clockwork Shirou slid into EMIYA's shifting stance, breaking the Archer's footing and weakening his guard.

Shirou pushed against Bakuya hard enough to slam his hilt against EMIYA's side. EMIYA grunted and the blow pushed him back several meters, breaking his already fragile stance completely.

Shirou slid forward to finish the fight-

EMIYA pointed Kanshou at him.

" **I am the bone of my sword."**

Shirou's eyes widened as three blades appeared in the air and shot towards him. He stopped and shattered them into steel dust once more, but by that time EMIYA had found his footing.

Shirou raised a foot from the ground, and his Awareness disappeared.

"I thought we weren't going to blow things up?" asked Shirou with a frown.

EMIYA smirked. "Did you see any explosions?"

Shirou was silent for a moment before he turned to his Masters with an eyebrow quirked.

Gudao sighed and rubbed his temples. "I just don't want things to get out of hand. But this is Chaldea, what was I thinking..."

Gabby shrugged. "I don't mind. This is basically a demonstration anyways. Go ham!"

"Please don't..."

Shirou nodded thoughtfully and shattered another sword coming at his arm.

"EMIYA!" Artoria scolded loudly.

"That wasn't very sporting," said Lily with a frown.

The Archer Traced his swords again. "Just keeping him on his toes."

Shirou smiled at EMIYA then. It was a wholesome smile, and devoid of any real malice.

There was a deep rumble. There was a riotous display of crackling blue prana that soared high into the sky.

There was no more forest.

There was only a grassy plain.

A light shadow was cast over EMIYA and the rest. The Archer looked up at its source with blankly. Then he looked back at Shirou, who had a suitably dry expression.

"Alright," he said quietly. "You've made your point clear. We'll stick to swordplay."

And a wind rustled the leaves of the forest.

The two leapt at each other once more.

Shirou did not activate Communion with Nature. The limitation in his mobility prevented him from getting any true advantage over EMIYA despite his own superior swordplay. EMIYA was somehow still dictating the pace of the fight even though he could not best Shirou in the duel.

As such, EMIYA's eyes widened when Shirou began pressing him back at a rapid pace.

Shirou's every slash came from a different direction in an erratic rhythm. While EMIYA was careful not to get cornered, his expression was strained.

Steel shattered as Kanshou broke under Shirou's onslaught. EMIYA Traced another one just as quickly to parry a stab, but to Shirou, this signalled the end of the fight.

EMIYA swung hard enough to break his own Projections on Shirou's sword to push Shirou back, instantly Tracing two more swords before Shirou could take advantage of the opening.

This did not surprise Shirou, but as he advanced forwards with his sword at the ready what came next did.

" **Overedge."**

Shirou was forced to turn his advancing slash into a crude parry with his crossguard when EMIYA's Kanshou suddenly grew to strike at his armpit. Bakuya grew as well, cutting at the hole he had left in his defences.

He was still as calm as ever, however.

With motions that spoke of long winter nights counting how many snowflakes he could cut down before they reached the ground, Shirou pivoted and reversed his grip, spinning around and stabbing with the point of his sword at the enlarged Bakuya's edge with enough force to blow it out of EMIYA's grip.

A sound not unlike that of the peal of a bell resounded through the clearing.

Shirou held his sword's back edge at EMIYA's throat.

"I hadn't seen that before," said Shirou, breaking the moment of silence. "You surprised me."

EMIYA held Bakuya's tip to Shirou's side.

"Surprised _you_?" EMIYA snorted. "I don't think I could have ever been this good with a sword. Besides, this is my loss."

Both of them knew. If he had kept going with that last attack, EMIYA would have lost his head before he could have thrust Bakuya into Shirou's side.

EMIYA lowered his sword, and Shirou followed suit.

"You did your best, Mister EMIYA!"

The two Emiyas turned to their audience, who had no doubt seen who the victor was given their own degree of skill.

Lily clapped softly with a bright smile on her face. Artoria was considering Shirou with a thoughtful expression.

Gabby was thumping Gudao hard on the back. Gudao shook his head with a slight smile that reminded Shirou more of a grimace than an expression of amusement.

"Why did I ever bet against you when it came down to a fight?" Gudao mused.

"Cause you're dumb and have almost no idea where a fight's going to lead once its started!" said Gabby cheerfully. "Thanks for doing all my paperwork for the week bro!"

"...No problem, _sis_."

"Senpai, don't you think it was a little disrespectful to EMIYA and Shirou to propose making a bet?" Mashu reprimanded Gabby quietly.

Gabby thought about that for a moment. "I mean, not really? It wasn't a real fight anyways. Since we're in Shirou's Reality Marble anyways, EMIYA would have been destroyed if Shirou hadn't held back."

"That doesn't make me feel better any," said EMIYA with a frown.

"Oh!" Lily smiled brightly. "Sorry! My mistake. You did your best, Mr. Archer!"

EMIYA rolled his eyes.

The Shielder turned towards EMIYA for a moment. "You did well, EMIYA-san," said Mashu consolingly, before turning back to her Masters again.

Shirou glanced at the scene briefly before turning to smile at Artoria with a question in his eyes. She relaxed and shook her head, walking over to his side.

"I was simply considering your swordsmanship and wondering to which degree Sengo Muramasa's skill has affected it," she explained, looking at Kanshou and Bakuya II with interest. Shirou handed it to her, holding it by the blade, and she inspected it for a moment.

"Probably _a whole lot_ ," grumbled EMIYA.

A smile tugged at the edge of Shirou's mouth as he nodded. "If it wasn't for Muramasa's skill I'd probably have been outclassed. That last exchange confirmed it." Artoria handed Kanshou and Bakuya II back to him, which he took and allowed to dissolve into prana.

"I have more experience than him in actual combat, it seems," said EMIYA with a shrug.

Shirou nodded. "I spent a lot of time in here by myself," he said, looking around his Reality Marble. "And Muramasa trained in seclusion in the forest near Fuyuki in his time. There wasn't much opportunity for him and me to test our skill against skilled opponents, let alone Servants." He shrugged. "I guess for all the skill Muramasa learned, there's still some room for growth."

"You can get better than pushing my sword away with a few fingers?" asked EMIYA flatly.

"Potentially."

EMIYA thought for a moment. "Huh," he said. "That's something."

"It will be interesting to spar with you, Shirou," said Artoria, a competitive gleam in her eyes. "I look forward to seeing how much you have improved first-hand."

Shirou's memories suddenly returned back to the days where she had trained with him in the Emiya dojo.

And of the time she had spent beating on him.

He recalled a lesson Muramasa had learned early on: _Disarm the enemy_ _of dangerous intent._ Shirou smiled at her. "Of course. I'll always welcome a chance to spend time with you."

"T-that goes without saying," said Artoria, clearing her throat.

"Get me out of here," groaned EMIYA. "Or I swear I'll open up my own Reality Marble and damned be the consequences."

"What happens if you do that?" asked Gabby curiously. "Research into Reality Marbles hadn't really advanced at all before, you know, everyone died."

EMIYA threw up his palms. "I don't know. I said 'damned be the consequences' for a reason."

"Eh, probably nothing good anyways," she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "So we'll have to set that experiment aside for later. Shirou, mind telling me why your feet never left the ground for the first part of that fight? Looked like you were gimping yourself pretty hard there."

"Gimping?"

"Handicapping, whatever synonym works for you I guess."

"Oh. I was using an active skill I inherited from Muramasa, 'Communion with Nature'. I focus on my surroundings from the shifting of the earth under my feet and attune my heartbeat to it. It gives me a greater perception of my surroundings and a faster reaction time." He nodded at the listening Archer. "That was the reason why I could turn your sword with just my fingers."

Gabby's eyebrows furrowed and she folded her arms, her eyes turning hazy with thought as she stared at the ground. "Close combat potential high," she muttered quietly. "Mid-range abilities befit Caster classification, long-range abilities mediocre in comparison to known Archers but definite alternative should possibility arise. Potential synergy in combat noted with-"

Gudao clapped a hand on her shoulder. "Sis," he said dryly.

She blinked and swivelled her head around to look at Gudao with an utterly blank expression that quickly transformed into a sheepish smile. "My bad." She turned to Shirou with an apologetic expression. "Sorry if I sounded a little cold there."

Shirou shook his head. "I was just surprised. I didn't expect you to sound so-"

"Intellectual?" said Gabby with a little grin.

"Analytical." Shirou finished firmly.

"Good save," remarked Gudao.

"I've always had a knack for seeing how things work in a fight," said Gabby. "Lord El-Melloi II's lessons don't hurt either. 'Course, Ritsuka here isn't so bad either but he can't hold a candle to me." She puffed out her chest proudly.

"We're seventeen to fourteen in wargames," said Gudao with an eyebrow raised.

"Yeah, but I destroyed you all seventeen times," said Gabby with a saccharine smile.

Gudao opened his mouth for a moment and then closed it upon further reflection.

"It's okay, Senpai," said Mashu. "Your strengths lie elsewhere. It can't be helped that Gabby is almost on par with Lord El-Melloi II's level of-Oh!" She appeared to have thought of something.

"What is it, Mashu?"

"We were supposed to talk to Doctor Roman about the Second Singularity this afternoon. It should be getting close to that time now."

"Man, almost forgot about that in all this excitement," said Gabby.

"No kidding," said Gudao dryly. "Shirou, can you-"

The world collapsed in a flash of white.

* * *

"-take us b-oh, thanks."

The practise field spread out under them as they had been left before.

"You're welcome," said Shirou. "I have a request of my own."

Gudao glanced at Gudako who waved a hand in a 'why-not' sort of way.

"This meeting you're going to, may I accompany you? Though I've seen several of Chaldea's staff, I haven't met this Doctor Roman yet."

Gudao "Sure, though it isn't really a meeting so much as a quick catch-up. If Roman had really found something we would have-"

"There you guys are!"

"Speak of the devil," murmured EMIYA.

Shirou turned to see a man rushing over to them.

His first thought was: _fluffy._

And it was not because of the small animal riding his shoulder, though the small critter was indeed quite fluffy-looking. Perhaps it was the ponytail, but the man's orange hair seemed to bob up and down with each step he took.

"Finally!" the man panted, his palms slapping against his knees as he took a breather, which the animal took as a sign to dismount with a light _fou_. Mashu smiled at the creature and picked it up, allowing it to nestle itself on her shoulder comfortably. "I looked in both of your rooms and the game room and conference room and the-"

"Slow down Dr Roman," said Gudao, raising his palms. _So this is Dr Roman,_ thought Shirou as he inspected the man.

There wasn't much there, truth be told. A normal human who did not seem to put that much stock in physical exercise, who also seemed to possess an excitable temperament. Yet, he seemed to be the one in charge of most things happening in Chaldea, so he could not just an ordinary man.

"Take your time," said Gudao. "What's so urgent?"

"Right! Right, time, that's, that's what I was going to say." Dr Roman straightened up and released a short breath. "We've finally pinpointed the Rayshifting coordinates for the second Singularity. Well, Da Vinci did most of the-"

"Really?!" Gabby exclaimed, popping up suddenly in front of Dr Roman.

The doctor reared back in surprise with a high-pitched squeal and promptly fell on his behind. Shirou glanced around saw that all the other Servants had on entirely blank expressions, except Lily who was looking at Dr Roman with some concern.

EMIYA noticed him looking and shrugged. _That's how it is._

Shirou slowly nodded in understanding.

"Ow," Dr Roman said with a wince, rubbing at his behind. "Yes, really."

"Where and when is it then?" asked Gudao, walking over and extending a hand, which Dr Roman took gratefully.

"Rome," said Dr Roman proudly, "60 AD."

"60 AD?" said Gudao in surprise. "That would be around Nero's time."

"I suggest we speak to her first before we depart, Senpai." suggested Mashu. "Though history has undoubtedly been rewritten to be different than in her time, more information straight from the source can never hurt."

"My thoughts exactly, Mashu," Gudao nodded at Mashu. "Doctor, how soon can you be ready to Rayshift me and Gabby?"

"Da Vinci and I will have it ready by the end of the day," said Dr Roman, who suddenly noticed Shirou standing there. "By the way, who's this?"

"My name is Shirou Emiya," said Shirou, stepping forward with an outstretched hand. "It's good to finally meet the man who's in charge of Chaldea."

"Oh no, no, no!" denied Dr Roman frantically waving both hands in front of him. "I just pick up the stuff that Gabby, Ritsuka, and Leonardo don't have the time for, I'm not in charge of Chaldea at all!"

Shirou tilted his head. "To my understanding, you're the highest ranking member left alive after Lev Lainur's sabotage."

Dr Roman winced and gave a nervous little laugh. "Ah-ha, well I suppose you're _technically_ right..."

"Roman just doesn't like to reminded of his new responsibilities is all, Shirou," Gabby laughed light-heartedly, throwing an arm around Dr Roman's neck and forcing him to hunch over with a cry. "If he had his way, he'd be in his room either sleeping the day away or watching reruns of that magical girl show he's obsessed with!"

Shirou blinked as Roman cheeks reddened rapidly as they brushed against Gabby's generous 'assets'.

"Man, he doesn't even really do much medical stuff nowadays," said the oblivious Gabby as Dr Roman's complexion turned redder and redder and his futile attempts to escape grew more and more frantic. "But he's still pretty good with all that technical and book stuff, you know? Like how-"

Gudao cleared his throat loudly. "Uh, sis?"

"Yeah bro?"

"I think the good doctor might need some air."

"Really? I'm not even holding him that har-OH GOD!" As soon as she released Roman's neck, he straightened up immediately and faced away from her, the tips of his ears bright red.

"Roman!" Gabby asked, concerned, walking to his side and holding his shoulder in concern. "You alright?"

"Never better!" said Dr Roman in a high-pitched voice as he shook her hand off began walking quickly away. "I'll think I'll just help Da Vinci set up the RayshiftnowokaythanksWHYDIDIJUSTSAYTHANKSOKAYBYESORRYRITSUKAAAAAA-"

He was sprinting by the time he had reached the doors to the observation booth.

Gabby was left staring blankly at the trail of dust he left behind. "Huh," she said, holding up her left arm and staring at her biceps. "Guess I really don't know my own strength."

She turned to see the rest of them regarding her as one.

"What? Why are you guys all looking at me like that?"

"He's a little older than you isn't he?" asked Shirou, perplexed.

"Eh, probably not that much older," said Gabby, considering seriously for a moment. "Come to think of it, we've never really asked about Roman's age, have we Ritsuka?"

"It wasn't really necessary," said her brother quietly staring a hole into the ground. " _Until now."_

"What was that?"

Gudao looked up innocently at her. "What was what?"

"That little thing you said at the end there. What was that about?"

"Nothing."

"You never mutter something to yourself under your breath, _Gudao._ "

"Maybe you just never noticed it before."

"Dude, I think I would have-"

"Gabby-senpai," Mashu broke in with a gentle smile. "Trust me when I say that your brother would never think of anything other than your well-being."

Gabby frowned. "Well, yeah, but-"

"Gudao strikes me as a man of the highest calibre," declared Artoria. "He would never behave in such a fashion as to shame the trust that I, King of Knights, holds in him."

"I know that much-"

"Indeed," said EMIYA, nodding seriously. "I recommend you put no stock in your reservations about Gudao's nature. As his sister, you should know he would never hold such sinister thoughts as castration in mind when it comes to your, ah, close friends."

"Who said anything about-"

"He's a good guy though," said Lily thoughtfully. "A little air-headed and spineless at times, but that just means he's a good fit for you, Gabby."

Gabby threw her hands up in exasperation. "Okay, I'm lost and you guys know that when I'm lost I change the subject. Are we going to talk to Nero now, brother? Or do you have another squad of Servants standing by to sing your praises hiding in the observation booth?" She turned on her heel and marched towards the aforementioned structure with her head held high.

Gudao sighed began following her. "I guess we've spent enough time here as it is, huh. Yeah, let's go." He turned to Shirou, who had started walking in turn with his fellow Servants. "Thanks for showing us your powers by the way. I can see your parameters and basic skills well enough, but nothing beats seeing you in combat and your actual powers in person."

"It was merely my duty as your Servant," said Shirou humbly. "Every little bit helps to save the world, Gudao."

Gudao smiled at that. "You're right, of course."

They walked through the empty observation booth and soon reached the familiar Chaldea hallways.

"I'll see you around then, Shirou, Artoria, Lily," said Gudao as he started heading off.

"Indeed," said Artoria with a nod.

"Sure!" said Lily brightly.

""Until next time,"" said Shirou and EMIYA at the same time.

The two turned and blinked at one another.

Gudao chuckled all the way around the corner he disappeared behind.

"So," said Shirou, at a bit of a loss. "What do we do now?"

"Well I'm off to the kitchens to prep some food," said EMIYA with a shrug. "Mondays, Thursdays, and Saturdays are my shifts over Cat's."

"Hm," said Shirou thoughtfully. "I might join-"

"Shirou."

The red-haired man turned to Artoria as she fidgeted with her hands held together, looking up at him with a tint of red on her cheeks. That pointy lock of hair shifted from side to side.

"We have...business to take care of, no?" She spoke quietly.

EMIYA's face went blank. "Ah. Well, I'm off then." The Archer beat a hasty retreat. Shirou only nodded in response after he had rounded the corner and gone.

"What kind of business?" asked Lily innocently. "Can I help?"

"You may not!" exclaimed Artoria loudly, her blush blooming to touch the tips of her ears.

Shirou shook his head slowly. "Sorry Lily," he said quietly, still staring into Artoria's eyes. "This is between me and Saber."

"Oh...Oh. I guess...I'll just go train some more now then."

"See you later Lily," said Shirou distractedly as she left quietly.

"Shall we?" Artoria asked, holding one of his hands and tugging him towards the direction of her room.

"We most certainly shall," murmured Shirou as he squeezed her hand softly and began walking a little faster.

* * *

Gudao grunted as he caught the hilt of a Roman soldier's sword over the man's shoulder and stopped it before it could be brought down on him.

"Masters!" Mashu yelled as she subdued other soldiers as quickly as she could. Gabby in the meantime was busy casting spells in a flurry, downing or confusing soldiers as they came.

Gudao grasped the man's shield and grimaced as the soldier began yelling curses in Latin, struggling to free his arms.

"Sorry about this," Gudao muttered as he kicked the soldier backwards with a tremendous heave of his right leg.

The rest of Romans barely noticed their fellow fall, concentrated as they became on the Shielder who to them was the biggest threat. Unfortunately, their training to subdue the most dangerous opponent on a battlefield together first only proved effective against humans, not Servants with C rank Strength and A rank Endurance.

By the end of the next minute, the soldiers were all unconscious with no injuries being suffered by either Mashu and the Masters.

Gudao relaxed as he sat upon a nearby rock.

"I'm so sorry Masters!" Mashu exclaimed as she rushed over, her shield astralized already. "You're not hurt are you? It's my fault, I should have-"

"It's not your fault, Mashu," said Gudao. "No one could have predicted being dropped into the middle of a Roman troop. Right, _doctor?"_

"Fou!"

"Fou?" Mash said incredulously.

The eponymous creature had popped out from...somewhere Gudao was certainly not staring at now. "I guess he hitched a ride," Gudao said, looking anywhere but there.

 _"Ah-ha,"_ came the familiar nervous laugh from the transmitter on Gudao's waist. " _Rayshifting still needs some fine-tuning I guess, sorry about that. At any rate, you're near a suitable ley line so you can call in a few Servants now."_

"Well that's good for some peace of mind," remarked Gudao.

Gabby nodded to the fluffy animal as she strolled up to Gudao. "Hey, Fou. Guess you're along for the ride again huh."

"Fou!" It said happily.

"One heck of a start, isn't it brother? At least we don't have to climb a mountain or anything right?"

" _Well..."  
_

She groaned. "You're kidding me."

" _Only if you want to summon a full contingent of Servants!"_ said Roman hastily. " _If you want a team of six, including Mashu, you should be alright at this point."_

"Well that's something," Gabby muttered. She looked at Gudao, who was deep in thought. "You come up with a team already, Gudao?"

"First things first," said her brother. "Where are we? This doesn't look like Rome."

"Fou..." Fou sounded sceptical as well.

" _You're not-! Can you even see the city from there!?"_

"Nope," said Gabby as she looked around. "Which means we probably ended up on the outskirts or something, because Ray-shifting can't be that inaccurate right?"

" _R-right. Yeah, of course!"  
_

"Doctor?" Gudao asked sourly.

" _N-no, really, you should just be on the outskirts of the city. Try finding a new vantage point?"_

Gudao sighed and nodded. "It's worth a shot."

"Masters!"

The two looked at Mashu, who was looking behind them.

"What-" Gudao was cut off as a great boom resounded across the plains.

"Fou!" Fou chittered excitedly.

The two Masters turned around to see a fight erupt between two forces several hundred meters away.

"A Servant?" murmured Gabby as a woman, faintly visible from this distance, jumped up high and smashed into the ranks of other Roman soldiers with a flaming sword.

" _It can't be,"_ declared Dr Roman. " _I'm not detecting any signatures of Servants within a kilometre."_

"So its someone who's actually alive at this time?" said Gudao in shock as she danced across the front lines, smashing Roman shields with continuously graceful swings of that flaming blade. She looked familiar, actually...

"No matter how impressive she is alone, she's got the smaller force," Gabby pointed out. 'Look, that army she's against may not have a fighter of that woman's calibre, but she can get overwhelmed all the same if she's just human."

The two Masters looked at each other for a long moment and nodded in unison.

"I'll summon two, and you'll summon three?" asked Gabby.

"I could use the help in a melee like that, thanks," said Gudao.

"I'll take Shirou, Cu, and Robin."

Gudao nodded. "Balanced Knight classes. I assume you want Shirou to get some experience first?"

"Yep. As a dual-class Servant, I think we'll be working with him a lot."

"Fair point. I'll take Ushi and George. I don't think we'll be encountering any Assassins here, so we should be alright. Mashu?"

She nodded firmly. "I'm with you, Senpai."

The two took out their Saint Graph shadows and began the summoning.

* * *

"Great Emperor!"

She broke the two last shields held by the frontline of enemy soldiers to deny the enemy their defences and then leapt back once more to let her army take advantage of the opening.

"Umu!" Nero Claudius Augustus turned to the centurion who had called her name. "What is it, proud citizen and soldier of Rome? Have you praise for my decisive opening of the enemy defences?"

"Yes, my glorious Emperor! Splendid work!" The centurion yelled automatically. "There also appears to be another force beguiling the United Alliance's rear as well!"

She did not have to survey the battlefield long to see the man's words for truth. A small team of fighters to be sure, but each seemed as powerful as her illustrious self, if not even more so!

Why, that red-haired man, in particular, seemed worth a legion on his own!

Much like she herself was!

"Umu!" She said, pleased at this fortuitous turn of events. "These enemies of our enemies appear to be powerful indeed! Now we have only to seize this glorious moment!"

Emperor Nero raised her beloved Aestus Estus towards the sky as it blazed as bright as a second sun.

"PROUD SOLDIERS OF THE TRUE ROME!" Her voice boomed across the front lines, filling her soldiers with courage and her enemies with fear.

She swept her blade down and her voice rang forth once more. "FORWARD _MARCH_!"

Nero Claudius Augustus smiled from the bottom of her great and magnanimous heart as the responding warcries and footsteps of her soldiers shook the earth.

* * *

"I think he's pissed again," remarked Gabby as she picked her way through the swathe of bodies Shirou had left behind in his wake.

"Oi, leave some for me!" Cu Chulainn yelled in the distance.

"It isn't a competition," the disembodied voice of Robin grumbled from somewhere near Gabby as his bolts pierced through enemy armour as if it were paper.

"Might want to talk to him about that before you send him back," said Gudao as he nodded to George, who nodded back and rode into a shield formation, breaking it wide open for Ushiwakamaru to dart in and dispatch the soldiers.

"I mean, he did yell something incoherent about being _interrupted again_ before he went on that rampage."

* * *

 **Shirou Emiya (Sengo Muramasa)**

 **Biography : **

**Default** : This Shirou Emiya was not someone who possessed the calibre to become known as a Heroic Spirit in his lifetime. However, as a result of this particular Holy Grail War's circumstances, he ended up being summoned as the vessel of the legendary blacksmith Sengo Muramasa. Moreover, this Shirou Emiya seems to possess all his abilities and memories in full due to Muramasa graciously allowing Shirou to take his place. A Pseudo-Servant who has more of the vessel in him than that which was supposed to fill him.

 **Bond 1: **

Height/Weight: 187cm/78kg

Source: Historical Fact - Fate/stay night

Region: Japan

Alignment: Neutral Good

Gender: Male

A man who knows doubly well how heavy the weight of principles and ideals can become.

 **Bond 2: **

Sengo Muramasa was a moderately well-known blacksmith famous for forging 'demonic' or 'cursed' swords. This ability was not something of Muramasa's originally, however, if he were to have been summoned properly as a Saber the swords he would have used would have undoubtedly been cursed with three marked traits: to never be sheathed until the blade had drawn blood, to never be sheathed until the blade had slain something, and to never be at rest unless having recently killed a human being.

Of course, these traits do not manifest in Shirou Emiya's Projections, due to them not being truly 'forged by his hands'. But if any blades were...

 **Bond 3: **

Infinite Creation of Swords: Alternative

Rank: E~~A

Type: ?

Unlimited Blade Works. A pseudo-unique magecraft that imposes Shirou Emiya's world upon his outer world. For a given time, all weapons stored within this Reality Marble become readily available for use. Can be used with or without an aria. When used with an aria, all reproduced weapons fall by half a rank. When used without an aria, prana consumption is greatly reduced, but all reproduced weapons fall by a full rank and a half.

 **Bond 4:**

Communion With Nature: EX

A skill that blends the facets of one's swordplay with the very movement of the swordsman's surroundings. Only those who have lived and trained alongside nature with minimal trappings of civilization can attain this skill. Mastering this skill, however, requires one to give up parts of one's own psyche to fully comprehend the relationship between the fundamental driving force of nature and its effect on the wielder themselves. At rank EX, can be used as an active skill, where perception is enhanced to levels that rival Instinct at ranks A++ and above.

 **Bond 5:**

Projection Magecraft: E- (Conditionally A++)

A magecraft that reproduces tools based on images. As a result of further specialization into his Origin of Sword during his life, this Shirou Emiya's normal Projection rank falls to E-. But when the target of Projection is a bladed weapon, the rank increases by a huge margin. Shirou can have his many projections explode to increase destructive power, but prefers not to resort to such tactics.

 **Extra: **

Affection of Seiba-Face: EX (Hidden Passive)

Shirou Emiya is an existence with an unbreakable and close connection to a certain blue Saber, no matter which timeline he or she originates from. This grants him immediate favour with any and all versions of the existence known as Artoria Pendragon, as well as anyone who bears a close resemblance to her.

 _"Damn it, Takeuchi."_

* * *

A/N:

EDIT: Just fixed up an unfinished line to make sure of Mashu's existence.

It took a whole year to get this out.

...Okay, maybe around three months, but it sure felt like a whole year.

Issues ranged from debilitating illnesses to Path of Exile's War for the Atlas expansion. Mostly the former, I'd say. Wrote a long-ish chapter to somewhat compensate. Don't think it'll appease the bloodlust I can feel from a mile away.

I think I hyped up the Emiya v Emiya fight too much, for how much space it actually takes up here. It was originally a chapter on its own, but then I felt like the story was slow enough as it was and so I cut it down a bit. Hopefully, it reads well, I'm not the best judge of my own writing, as made apparent by everyone who reads this crap.

It's tough trying to get a handle on the personalities in Chaldea when there are so many memorable ones. I don't know how GhostXavier does it.

Pretty damn well, obviously.

Saber Wars just came out at the time of me finishing this. While the story is fun, and I can see the Servant-Verse be the site of some funny stuff going down, I must question the sanity of anyone trying to get 2,000,000 points. GudaGuda was bad enough, but apparently, these dailies don't even compensate as much as those did.

But NP5 Lily, the armpits-err-Purely Bloom CE's...they call...in sweet dulcet tones that remind me to say my daily mantra all over again: " _Damn it, Takeuchi."_

In admiration this time, of course.

Next time, we see Affection of Seiba-Face EX in action.

So _overt_ that it's _covert_.


	8. All Roads

**EDIT:** Details fixed. Removed a superfluous line. Should edit properly next time...

* * *

 **Chapter 8:**

"Well, that's that."

Gudao looked up. He was lying on the grass, resting, away from the battlefield. He had assured Mashu he was fine, so she was standing guard nearby with St. Georgios. Gabby was standing over him, her shadow falling over his torso and looking at something in the distance.

They were choosing to conserve the remainder of their prana by not actively working with their Servants. Gudao had already sent Cu Chulainn (there had been a lot of complaining from him), Ushiwakamaru, and Robin Hood back to Chaldea. St. Georgios was a few steps away for protection against anything unexpected. He was taking pictures with a small Polaroid camera, occasionally gathering up his long brown hair and tucking it behind his neck to stop it from getting in the way of his shots. Mashu was speaking with him enthusiastically, and Georgios seemed to be entertaining her questions quite readily.

Something about that sight made Gudao feel...something in his chest. But he chalked up the feeling to his fatigue.

"What do you mean?" He asked, slightly panting from the effort of running around the battlefield and keeping up with his Servants.

He was no slouch when it came to physical conditioning. His and Gabby's exercise regimen was one of the few things both Cu Chulainn and EMIYA worked together on. But Gabby's constitution was on another level entirely. Gudao could even run a marathon in good time for his age.

Gabby would fall short of Olympic medalist times but close enough to be comparable. This was even before factoring in the boosts to their physical ability given by their Chaldean Uniform Mystic Codes.

Which was why Gabby was looking no worse for wear and looking across the field with a thoughtful expression. "Nero just caught our enemies in an encirclement. She held the line almost single-handedly and retreated slowly while fanning out her flanking lines."

Gudao sat up to consider the battle taking place several hundred meters away. His brain worked at it for a few moments before he realized Gabby was right. "She couldn't have done that if we weren't hitting them in the back," he said.

"Yeah," said Gabby. "Considering how bad she was outnumbered, her flanking lines would have broken if they'd been pressured more."

"That's a big risk to take on us," mused Gudao, sitting up and crossing his legs. "To this Nero, we're basically the 'enemy of my enemy'."

"We'll ask her about it when we meet her," said Gabby with a shrug. "If I know our emperor, we should get an audience once this is over."

"Right," said Gudao. He frowned, remembering something. "So where did Shirou go? You said you would manage him."

Gabby suddenly found her toes a puzzle. "He's..."

A light purple explosion suddenly erupted in the middle of the enemies who had been surrounded, the shockwave enough to throw bodies near enough to it into the air to crash down with bone-shattering force. St. Georgios' and Mashu sharply turned their heads towards it.

Nero's forces barely paused in their work but instead surged forward as the resistance they faced suddenly crumbled.

In mere seconds, the battle had been ended.

And a red-haired man suddenly stood alone, surrounded by an army of entirely different Roman soldiers, looking around bemusedly as he was, in turn, looked at with no small degree of trepidation.

"...He's around."

"I hadn't noticed," remarked Gudao dryly. He got up slowly but then suddenly pointed. "Ah!"

"What?"

"I thought that would take a little less time," said Gudao, and he began running.

A short blonde woman, garbed in a flamboyant Imperial red dress laced with gold, was striding her way towards Shirou, her army of Romans parting before her like a certain sea before a certain biblical figure.

Gabby followed with a sigh, with Mashu close behind.

Georgios sigh was for a different reason, looking at the scenery one last time before putting away his camera. The Saint's gaze lingered on the petite woman for a long moment before he shook his head slowly and disappeared in a shower of blue motes.

* * *

Shirou glowered at the soil. It was the first time in his life or Muramasa's he had hated so much a particular patch of earth.

It was the reason why he was here. It was the representation of a Singularity, a pillar of disorder that was disrupting the course of human history, a broken foundation that was perpetuating the annihilation of mankind in the present day.

More importantly, it was interrupting some sorely needed _private time_ between him and Artoria.

Shirou glowered upwards, casting his eyes upon a shield wall he knew was approaching from all around him. Around him lay broken bodies garbed in Roman soldier armour, dissipating slowly into dark purple clouds. They said no words, made no screams or pleas for mercy. His eyes saw that these soldiers were not human in the thinking and feeling sense.

Not human in the thinking and breathing sense of the word. Perfect targets to vent on. Shirou could not deny he felt a measure of satisfaction as he muttered, " _Trace, on."_

And as Kanshou and Bakuya II fell into his hands the fight began anew.

Lances jabbed at him in synchronization, from all directions and precisely aiming for his vitals.

Shirou swung with the flat of his blade, stepping with the blow and kicking up a billowing cloud of dust with his heels. More than a few spears would be diverted by it.

His blow broke enough lances for him to create an opening for him to step into. The other lances soared through the empty air, close enough for him to feel the displaced air. His second step brought him close enough to the shield wall to reach out with a hand and tear a tower shield right out of a soldiers hands, gutting the soldier with his other hand.

He broke the shield on top of the soldier's head for good measure and kicked him back into the press of bodies, advancing through the hole in the shield wall, cleaving to his left and right, straight through steel chest plates and leather coats with his Reinforced strength.

Shirou narrowed his eyes as Kanshou and Bakuya II flashed through the air, severing limbs and causing them to vanish into that strange purple mist. The soldiers were once again reforming an encirclement, paying no heed to their fallen and instead using their bodies to buy time to surround him again.

 _It didn't work the first time,_ thought Shirou as he leapt after the nearest retreating soldiers, felling them even as more got away. _What are they up to?_

He stopped for the briefest of moments and activated Communion with Nature.

Awareness flooded in.

His eyes widened.

The crowd of dark red and gold were surging towards him, dropping tower shields and lances, pulling out daggers and short swords. There were even a few soldiers poised to climb on top of their fellows.

They were going to jump on him bodily all at once.

 _Ridiculous._

But he realized that from their point of view, it was an effective strategy against an enemy with strong anti-personnel capabilities.

A strategy that could only be implemented by those with no fear and thoughts of self-preservation, as well as with perfect synchronicity.

Like this, Shirou thought he could see through some of the power that the one manipulating these constructs held.

But he would tell his Masters his suspicions later.

 _That is, if they haven't already figured it out,_ Shirou thought wryly.

He could have fought through them all regardless, but this presented an opportunity to end this fight.

Shirou dismissed Kanshou and Bakuya II and raised left his palm facing up into the air. " **My body is made of swords**."

From his endless forest of swords, a wind blew, carrying to the forefront of his mind the armament he needed.

 **"Rho Aias** **."**

His eyes tightened with strain. As expected, this Projection took a noticeable chunk out of his reserves, simply due to it not being a sword.

Seven thin layers, akin to light pink flower petals, blossomed out from his palm, curving down all around him in a dome.

The first Roman soldiers were already in the process of falling upon the shield of Aias the Great.

They had thrown themselves at him, using their bodies as weapons. So naturally, they themselves fell into the category Rho Aias held an absolute defence against.

He clenched his fist.

Prana poured into the shield.

Shirou did not like performing this technique, but it was perfect for the situation at hand.

For the briefest of moments, the petals of Rho Aias thrummed as they emitted a dangerous blood-red light.

Then the tip of a leaping Roman soldier's dagger touched it, unable to stop itself.

With a crackle like lightning, the first petal exploded outward in a storm of dark red shrapnel, the force of the explosion throwing back all the soldiers encircling Shirou, and more besides.

When Shirou allowed the other six petals of Rho Aias to vanish, he saw before him cratered earth and the dissipating bodies of his enemies.

Using Rho Aias as a Broken Phantasm had several conditions to achieve this kind of effect. First, it needed an outside 'thrown weapon' to react to. Second, it was guaranteed to sacrifice at least one petal of its seven, the number increasing depending on the strength of the 'thrown weapon'. If a Broken Rho Aias tried to stop anything on the level of even a B-rank Noble Phantasm, it would surely lose all its petals, leaving him completely vulnerable to that attack on top of suffering the feedback from those petals being destroyed. Such a case would guarantee his death, so he had to be careful what he used this technique for. This was also not even taking into account the shield's prohibitive prana cost.

As it was, his left arm felt as if it had been lightly tenderized. And this was with only one petal Broken. Should all seven petals be Broken, he had no doubts that he would be completely unable to use the left side of his body.

With the clanking of armour, other soldiers suddenly approached from around Shirou. Still garbed in the same colours as the soldiers he had felled, but in different outfits, more intricate and ornate in some places but still weathered and caked with dirt from the recent battle.

More importantly, they were people who were afraid of him. Understandable, given the display of power he had just shown but he could not help but feel his heart grow heavier. He did not quite know how to handle crowds like this, either.

Shirou looked around for his Masters and found them hurrying towards him about a hundred meters away. The soldiers surrounding him, while nervous and fidgeting with their weapons, were not overtly hostile so he failed to see the source of their-

A feminine and boisterous voice interrupted his thoughts. "Splendidly fought, magus of red hair!"

Shirou turned around in surprise as the Romans parted to reveal-

His eyes went wide.

"Umu," The Artoria look-a-like in a red dress puffed up and held a hand over her considerable chest in pride. Aside from some minute changes in hairstyle and darker eye colour, her face was exactly the same as Artoria's. "You may certainly gaze upon my visage and body in admiration. Since I can discern no wicked thoughts from your gaze, I will allow it!"

Shirou suddenly felt a thousand stares trying to pin him where he stood, every single one of them coming from the men surrounding him. His neck almost creaked as he turned his head turned to look at his arriving Masters. St. Georgios appeared from seemingly nowhere just behind them, startling more than a few soldiers. The Saint snapped one last picture before putting away his camera under the folds of his robes.

Gabby caught the look in Shirou's eyes and pointed at the girl's sword with a brow raised.

He blinked. _Oh, right._ His eyes automatically recorded the sword and its history.

 **Aestus Estus: The Original Flame**. The sword of Nero Claudius Caesar Augustus Germanicus.

 _...Emperor Nero was...Empress Nero?_ Somehow this was more surprising than the fact that she was looked like a copy of Artoria, if somewhat only in the, ah, facial area.

The short empress in question turned to Gudao and Gabby. "Greetings to you all, strangely dressed folk!"

 _You're wearing a dress like that though!_ screamed Shirou mentally, suddenly having just looked down and noticed the transparent portion of her skirt.

"Do not think I have forgotten you as the source of my serendipity! I shall prepare a suitable reward for you and your retainers!" Nero stated proudly. But her expression fell downcast. "Of course, all I have on me is this sword, but once we return to Rome I will certainly keep my word."

"Thank you for your recognition. We have no doubts about your generosity," said Gudao simply.

"Umu! The spark of recognition is lit in your eyes and you have given a suitable response. It appears that it is only I who is at a disadvantage. Yet." The girl swept her right arm to the side as if cutting aside this self-professed weakness. "To not give a suitable introduction to a character such as I, is to deny who I am and thus my place upon the stage. Behold!"

She stabbed Aestus Estus into the ground and spread her arms out to the side theatrically.

A shower of rose petals fell from the air around her, and the cratered earth turned into smooth marble flooring draped with red carpet.

Her soldiers propped up banners marked with blooming flowers on either side of her, looking all-too-used to this turn of events.

"I am the one and only Nero Claudius Caesar Augustus Germanicus!" Her voice boomed off the hills as a golden spotlight suddenly shone down upon her, bright even in broad daylight. "Thus do I grant you the privilege of my presence!"

 _...How is she doing that?_ Shirou thought as he patted rose petals off his shoulders.

"My name is Ritsuka Fujimaru," said Gudao formally. "This is Gabrielle, my sister, Mashu Kyrielight, Georgios, and Shirou." He gestured to each of them in turn.

Nero's pose relaxed. "Indeed, strange names you four have. And though it is discourteous to offer inquiry so soon after you have granted me a boon, I must ask where the rest of your party has gone, as well as the identity of another mage who seems to be hiding somewhere close yet far away."

" _So she can detect my surveillance?"_ The disembodied voice of Dr Romani said from just over Gudao's shoulder in surprise.

"Umu, so it seems he is your companion. Some form of scrying perhaps?" Nero wondered for a moment before shaking her head. "It matters not for now. We must return to Rome at once. There we can set about the business of rewarding you and resting while deciding our next course of action."

" _Enemy Servant signature detected!"_ Dr Romani's voice was suddenly shrill. " _Closing fast from the West!"_

"We'll explain fully soon," said Gudao urgently when Nero turned to him for answers. "For now, an enemy as powerful as Shirou and Georgios' is coming from the West soon."

"The West," Nero nodded, her eyes serious. She turned. "Praetor!"

A young man with brown hair cut short to his temples stepped forward from behind her and stood at attention. "My lady!" He barked promptly.

"Take the Seventh to the nearest outpost to the East. We will hold this enemy while you retreat."

The Praetor frowned and looked as if to raise an objection before his eyes fell upon Shirou. His expression smoothed over and became stern once more. "Yes, my Empress!"

Turning to the army behind him, he roared: "Legion! Quick march, to outpost Sigma!"

Nero's army flowed around the group in a highly coordinated fashion, with each soldier marching in tandem with each other. Within the next minute, the tail end of the legion was more than two hundred meters away, marching over the next hillside.

 _"_ The famed discipline of the Roman army, huh," said Gudao, his eyes sparkling with admiration.

The faint roaring of what sounded like a beast echoed off the hills.

"Fanboy later, we've got incoming!" said Gabby, smacking her brother's shoulder and pointing.

Everyone turned to look.

A huge man was running towards them from a long distance away, kicking up grass and earth as he went. He wore ornate golden Roman armour attached at the shoulders to a red cape billowing out from behind him. Short dark blue hair, almost black, flattened at his temples against the wind, and red eyes devoid of pupils were narrowed in laser-focused precision on the group. This man was the source of the bestial cry, getting louder as he came closer.

Nero's eyes widened in recognition, as did Gudao and Gabby's. Georgios' mouth thinned to a line, and he held Ascalon's hilt tighter, though the blade itself was sheathed.

"Masters, orders?" Mashu spoke quietly.

Gudao and Gabby exchanged a glance towards each other, then to the approaching Servant, then back again. A conversation seemed to play itself out in those few moments. They nodded to each other, and both stepped back towards Georgios, who had drawn Ascalon and held it at the ready.

"It can't be," said Nero quietly, Aestus Estus held in an uncertain grip.

" _You're not about to go and switch either of your classes to Berserker again, are you?"_ Gabby's voice echoed in his mind.

Mental communication through their bond was faster than verbal. Shirou assumed this was how Gabby and Gudao directed Servants in battle or time-sensitive matters. "S _orry,"_ he thought sheepishly. _"_ _That particular issue should clear up when I get back to Chaldea and uh, finish some business."_

 _"Good to know. You'll be engaging Caligula in tandem with Mashu as the front line, backing up Nero when necessary."_ Shirou stepped up beside Mashu and gave her a nod, which she returned. _"Also, do you have any weapons with anti-draconic properties?"_ Gabby continued.

Shirou expressed confusion through the link. "A _few, but they aren't especially powerful against dragons."_

 _"Balmung?"_

" _Less than thirty seconds_ ," warned Gudao. " _His parameters look almost the same as they were in Chaldea_."

 _"Understood. Siegfried's sword? I've got nothing on that level, sorry."_

 _"We'll have to get you to take a tour of Chaldea's armoury then. Or EMIYA's Reality Marble. Basically the same thing. Anyways, we'll have to put Georgios' combo attack on hold then. For now, we'll deal with Caligula. Or rather, you and Mashu and Nero will. We'll just be over here, a couple hundred meters away, with Georgios, in case something goes wrong."_

 _"Understood,"_ thought Shirou and Mashu wryly in unison.

The Berserker finally stopped yelling and dug his feet into the ground, sliding to a stop around a dozen meters away.

Nero lowered Aestus Estus, dropping her guard with an expression of sadness. "So it is you, uncle. Are you under the banner of this 'United Rome' as well?"

"Give it to me..." Caligula's voice was quiet, almost inaudible at this distance.

Nero's eyes narrowed. "Uncle?"

Caligula shuddered, clutching his head and pulling at his hair. "My actions...are...destiny..."

"Uncle? What are you speaking of?"

Caligula flinched as if struck. "No...yes...she is...Agrippina...no...I must...YOU...MUST...!" He shuddered again and his head snapped up, glaring suddenly at Nero. "GIVE ME YOUR BODY!" Caligula roared, leaping at Nero with outstretched arms.

Nero flinched and was late in raising her sword.

A purple shield slammed into Caligula's face, throwing him back more than a few paces.

Shirou followed up and took the opportunity to slash at the Berserker's neck.

Caligula spun around faster than expected with a roar, and Shirou's blow slid off the Berserker's shoulder guards, only managing to cut off a piece of his cloak. Shirou leaned to the side as Caligula's fist came straight at his head, and stabbed at the presented armpit, but Caligula flung himself back, landing on all fours, snarling like a beast.

"Very well," Nero called out as she strode forth to stand at Shirou's side. "In consideration for our previous relationship, I shall-"

Caligula roared out once more and he leapt forward again.

Nero's sadness turned into irritation. "So you truly have lost all reason," she said impassively.

 _"Mashu, set up an all-out attack with Shirou once Nero makes an opening in Caligula's guard,"_ directed Gabby.

"Understood," Mashu murmured.

Shirou nodded and muttered, " **My body is made of swords."**

The wind brought forth the Projection he wanted without delay. He held the image in his head without Projecting it just yet, waiting for the right moment.

 _"Huh, I didn't know you had that in your Reality Marble. Makes sense though,"_ thought Gudao.

 _"Bro, don't clutter the comms, but yeah, let's c_ _lear the area if that's the Noble Phantasm I'm thinking of!"_

The Berserker grabbed for Nero, but grunted as Mashu's shield slam put him on the back foot again. Nero stepped into the opening with a stony face and spun around in an almost elegant way that cleaved open Caligula's chest armour with upwards slash.

Caligula roared but Mashu slammed into him again before he could retaliate, throwing him even further back.

Shirou was waiting with his Projection held ready.

Nero raised her eyebrows as she beheld the golden sword in Shirou's hands. "Beautiful," she said in awe.

Mashu tapped her shoulder to get her attention. "Please follow me," she said, already retreating.

"Of course! This performer will not get caught up in a closing of curtains no matter how pleasing to the eye it is!" Nero proclaimed while hurrying along.

Caligula shook his head as if to clear away a concussion. As he saw Nero and Mashu retreat, he roared in rage again and leaned down in preparation to leap again.

Shirou was not going to let him.

He thrust the Noble Phantasm in his hands towards the Berserker and invoked its true name:

" **Caliburn!** "

Golden light almost blinded him even at midday.

Caligula roared as Caliburn's beam struck him in the shoulder, tearing apart his shoulder guard entirely. Then a golden cascade of explosions lit the air around him, relieving the sorely abused earth of its grass for good, and lighting up the area for half a mile around.

When the golden explosions cleared, Caliburn dissipated in motes of blue prana. Shirou cautiously Projected Kanshou and Bakuya II again even as he saw Caligula kneeling upon the ground, his cloak in tatters and his armour broken in several places. One of his arms was bent too far backwards, and blood ran down his face, over red eyes narrowed in pain.

Regardless of his blood pooling over his eyelids, Caligula glared wide-eyed at Shirou. "You...defy...destiny..." he ground out.

"Who do you serve?" asked Shirou quietly.

"Rome...itself..."

Shirou blinked. He had not been expecting an answer, let alone a half-coherent one.

Caligula shuddered and groaned in pain. "Destiny...comes..."

With that, his body disappeared in a shower of golden light, not unlike that of a defeated Servant dying.

 _"He's not dead. Yet,"_ Gabby informed him in his thoughts.

Shirou turned and saw his Masters approaching, with Nero and Mashu. "He was called away by Command Seal then?" Shirou asked.

"Or something like that," said Gudao, walking up to Shirou and clapped him on the shoulder. "Good work by the way."

Shirou's smile was small but honest. "It wasn't much. But thank you."

"You have quite the retainers, consuls!" Nero laughed gaily and strode forth to stand in front of Shirou, looking up at him with a seemingly well-worn expression of pride. "Were I not respectful of one's wishes, I would daresay attempt to poach at least this one from your service."

"That would be a little difficult," said Gudao wryly. "But we are thankful for your good nature regardless."

"Umu," said Nero with a firm nod. "Now that the danger has passed, we should regroup with my forces to the East. I shall listen to your tale along the way, of course."

"We would be glad to tell it," said Gudao. "We just need to send back Shirou and Georgios' to Chaldea first. Even with Gabby here, our prana is stretching thin."

"Send back to Chaldea?" repeated Nero in confusion.

"Well, first of all, we're from the future," said Gabby.

Nero tilted her head. "Elaborate, if you will."

While Gabby explained their situation, Shirou remembered Caligula's answer to his question. "There's something I should tell you first," said Shirou, raising a forestalling hand at Gudao, who had taken out a pair of Saint Graph copies. "I asked Caligula who he served, and he said 'Rome itself'."

"Rome itself?" Repeated Gudao, thoughtful. "I'm surprised that got past the obvious constraints he was dealing with."

Shirou frowned. "Constraints?"

Gudao shrugged. "Caligula can definitely put up a better fight than that, even three on one. He didn't even use his Noble Phantasm in that situation like that. Either his Madness Enhancement is stronger than A+, which I suppose is a possibility considering the previous Singularity, or he was under orders from his summoner to fight at a reduced capacity."

"Indeed!" Interjected Nero into the conversation, popping up between Shirou and Gudao like a mole popping out of its den. "I do not remember my Uncle being as weak as the one we faced just now, even considering that work of art Shirou unleashed upon him. I did think something was wrong, but to think an Emperor of Rome would be under someone's command to that extent is concerning."

"That was a fast explanation," said Gudao, looking at Gabby with a raised eyebrow.

"You always overcomplicate things," said Gabby, waving a hand dismissively and snatching the Saint Graph Seals from Gudao in the same motion. "I just told her that we're here to sort out the guy holding a holy grail that's causing distortions in the timeline that's further causing the utter destruction of human civilization some two thousand years into the future."

"Well, sure, that's accurate but-"

"Hey, are you going to meet Artoria when you get back?" Gabby asked Shirou, ignoring her brother.

Suddenly thoughts of that petite blond woman forcefully intruded upon his thoughts.

"Yes!" said Shirou, anxiously eyeing the Saint Graph shadows now.

Gabby and Gudao blinked twice in unison. "Well, uh, you should probably tell her that Nero's in this Singularity. So she doesn't get surprised if we summon her here."

"I'll do that," promised Shirou, still staring at the means of getting him back to Chaldea.

Gabby stared for a long, long moment. "Alright then," she said, holding one Saint Graph Shadow to Shirou's arm and another to Georgios'.

As he disappeared, he heard Gudao ask, in a voice that sounded as if it were falling away, "What do you think that was all about?"

* * *

A point of light along a long line that stretched on for an eternity. A point that suddenly flickered, moving in a direction that could only be described as _forward,_ before settling at-

* * *

"Ah, you're back."

Shirou opened his eyes to the smiling face of Da Vinci, looking up at him from a display connected to Chaldea's rayshifting apparatus.

He immediately noticed the other woman standing next to her.

Artoria rushed forward and held Shirou's hand as if to make certain of his existence, staring into his eyes for a long moment before hugging him tightly.

Da Vinci piped up, "So there'll be a-"

Shirou ran out of the room carrying Artoria in a princess hold, their destination certain.

"-debriefing later," finished Da Vinci, her smile only widening as the door slid shut. "Ah, young love."

The Renaissance Man turned to a bemused Saint Georgios. "So, take any good pictures? I heard Rome is pleasant this time of year and that year in particular."

Georgios' expression brightened as he took out his camera. "Indeed," he said with a small smile. "Would you like to see?"

* * *

A/N:

So there are 947 followers of this story at the time of writing this author's note. I hadn't looked at the follower count in like, three months. Somehow I missed it even when uploading the last chapter. I also had no frame of reference for this number until I looked at Fragments of Chaldea's stats.

What the heck? Is this fic actually a thing?

Thank you all. It's really...humbling, to be honest. This was supposed to be a one-shot, just an idea I had kicking around until I finally had the courage to offer up to the FSN fandom of this site half a year ago.

And since then I've basically written a chapter a month. Yeah...

At this rate, I'll finish Part 1's in like, fifteen years. And I'm not even sure if this site is going to be around by then.

So I guess I should step it up. This is in no way a promise by the way. I break resolutions and promises like this every New Years before the week is out.

But I'll try. For all 947 of you fellows.

I'm rambling.

Story-related thoughts:

-Caliburn was seen by Shirou in his Grail War, the quasi-Fate/UBW route.

-Broken Rho Aias was something I came up with based on Rule of Cool principles.

-Caligula turned out to be really tragic once I delved into his backstory. Before, I just figured him to be an incest-crazy old guy obsessed with getting into Nero's skirts.

-Story hints that don't really hint so much as spell out ROMA DE ARU! out in giant glowing neon letters visible from low orbit.

-I'm not detailing Shirou and Artoria's bed escapades...but I will probably reference them.

-Is Affection of Seiba Face a joke or an actual thing? I don't even know, and I'm writing this thing!

-I think I have to get better at writing fights. Thoughts and feedback?

-Shirou hasn't seen nearly as many weapons as EMIYA has. He went into isolation for probably a fraction of the time EMIYA spent as a Counter-Guardian.

-I'd like some feedback on how I've written Nero. I haven't watched Extra yet or any of the Moon Cell entries! I REALLY SHOULD, BUT I DON'T HAVE THE TIME.

-Georgios is so damned broken in lore, what the heck.

-Major story revisions are going to happen, in case you haven't noticed already. I'll do my best to make sure it all makes sense.


	9. Lead To Rome

_Rome shall be the world, dear brother! Like a splendid tree, its roots shall extend far past this small peninsula and across every land and ocean imaginable, to reach hearts and minds yet foreign to us and thus bring the whole of humanity together in the most splendid display of civilization that shall never be surpassed!_

* * *

 **Chapter 9:**

Dark shadows clung to to the walls of the room, hiding them away as if the stone were being hoarded. Braziers and torches blazed, but all their light only brushed the two oaken doors at the front of the room.

Facing the doors in the center of the room sat a throne, squatting upon the marble floor as if laboring under the weight of its burden. Behind the throne was a tree, its crimson trunk fused into the marble floor seamlessly, appearing as sturdy as if it had been grown out of the stone. Autumn leaves brushed the ceiling and spread over nearly the whole hall, yet the only shadow it cast hid the face of the man sitting motionless upon the throne.

He was massive, nearly the height of the tree behind him should he have stood up, and he looked more like a masterwork sculpture rather than a man. He was robed in great flowing robes, crimson and trimmed gold, falling down to his ankles. Upon his head sat a helmet shaped like a wolf's head, with two glowing rubies set in the place of eyes.

Yet it was the sight of his own eyes peering out from the darkness that plagued the air with a vicious chill. Those two pupil-less eyes rimmed with black and flecked with gold that shined in the shadow, not with a madness that came from seeing a world warped by the empty promises of delusion, but with a madness that came from seeing the world as a promise to be fulfilled by one's own hand.

They were the eyes of a Conqueror, now open and unblinking, staring off to the east where the oaken doors led.

The torchlight flickered, the shadows lengthened.

The Conqueror spoke then, in a voice that made the ground shiver. " **Be not hidden in shadow**."

The torches flared, blazing bright, cowing the darkness into revealing something standing next to the wolf-marked doors.

This something was tall and possessed a pleasant smile, with eyes hidden in perpetual joviality. Its dark green jacket and top hat further lent it that genial air. Indeed, this had all the appearance of a gentleman of good nature.

And yet.

It was in the way he held his cane, as if it was the neck of a child he was about to strangle. The way he stood in his skin as if his suit was three sizes too small. The way his smile had all the architecture of warmth but simply lacked the emotion to convey it.

"My apologies," orated the thing in the shape of a gentleman, in a voice with the shape of a twentieth-century British accent. "It is simply in my nature to keep to the shadows."

"That would imply your kind are in any way natural, 'Court Mage'." retorted the Conqueror. "Be glad you have not made the mistake of approaching any closer, else that rotting corpse would have lost another of his Pillars."

"Your magnanimity shakes me," the thing's smile was wide and mocking as it tapped the brim of its hat with a spindly finger.

"Make no mistake," the Conqueror's voice thundered off the walls though it was little more than a whisper. "Even now, that cup you hold is but a slight impediment to Rome erasing your filth from these consecrated grounds."

"A good thing I have a tight grasp on it, then."

The Conqueror's eyes narrowed. From the left hand that rested upon an arm of his throne he raised a single finger at the man-shaped thing.

" **Begone as the dust you came from.** "

Autumn leaves blew down from the great tree's canopy in a torrent that swallowed up the thing in the shape of man.

Inside that maelstrom of gold and ruby, the thing's visage twisted, its proportions growing inhumanly long and distorted. It's eyes opened, glowing bright red, pitted with crimson ruby. " **Tch**." The noise flitted out from between cracked lips drawn all the way back to its ears in a soundless snarl. It reached a clawed hand inside its coat and grasped at something.

A flash of ethereal prismatic light pulsed from within the swirling mess of dry leaves, blowing them away in tatters before dissolving into purple mist.

Lev Lainur, 'Court Mage' of United Rome, had fled.

And the Conqueror lowered his finger.

Thus inconsideration and shadow returned to the room.

Though the memory of thought and light was slow to fade.

* * *

It was some time later when red and golden eyes creased.

 **"My child,"** the Conqueror called, his voice cracking like a whip over the hills and plains of Rome and into the consciousness of his kin.

Golden motes of mana coalesced before his throne into the shape of a Berserker class Servant kneeling before him. The Mad Emperor Caligula clutched at his broken arm, swaying unsteadily as his temple bled freely.

"Divine...Founder..." Caligula growled.

A fleck of regret flashed through the Conqueror's eyes before impassivity reasserted itself. "Rome had thought my child capable of relaying my estranged child home."

"Heroic...spirits..."

A single eyebrow arched high. "More Servants have been summoned? Curious indeed. And that malignant growth said it did not use its cup. Which means...ah." He nodded slowly in realization. "Chaldea. Their intervention is timely. Indeed, with more Heroic Spirits at her side, my estranged child may indeed be able to turn the tide of this war against this Rome."

Rather than appear worried at such a thought however, the Conqueror's smile was genuine. He looked upon Caligula and spoke in words that beckoned rather than commanded. " **Rise."**

The Mad Emperor shuddered as his arm snapped back into position, as the blood flowing freely down his scalp dried and flaked off into red dust, as the skin around his wounds boiled, closing without a hint of a scar left behind.

The Conqueror spoke to forestall the Mad Emperor's departure. "Rome must keep you at bay for now, my child."

The Mad Emperor bowed his head stiffly without a word, a foot drawing back already in anticipation of a dismissal.

The Conqueror inclined his head graciously. "An admirably restrained response. Know this is not without cause or reparation. With the arrival of Chaldea's Masters it has become known that this child's wishes cannot be fulfilled with Rome's constraints upon him." Here the Conqueror paused. And spoke again to make certain of his intentions. **_"_ When next Rome allows it, this child may use his Noble Phantasm and Imperial Privilege**."

Caligula's second nod was deeper.

"You may leave, to sally forth when next Rome needs you." said the Conqueror quietly, the command gone from his voice.

The Mad Emperor turned without a word or backwards glance. The wolf doors opened before him, quick enough for his stride to remain unbroken, and closed behind him as quickly.

As the dull thud resounded in the chamber, the torches flickered, began to lose their radiance.

Left in the throne room's lengthening shadows, glowed two unblinking eyes of red and gold.

The red pulsed from the eagerness of a wolf on the prowl. The gold shined from an emperor's restraint.

But slowly, near the far corner an eye, the barest sliver of gold trembled.

And slowly followed the dying light into the abyss.

* * *

"Emperor?"

The short blonde woman blinked, tearing her eyes away from the western horizon still cloaked in dusk. She turned in her seat to face the man standing at attention in entrance of her tent. "Yes, Praetor Maximus? This one will hear your petition."

"I am honored as always," Maximus bowed formally and glancing about where it was safe to stand before entering a few steps inside the spacious tent and standing to attention.

It would not do in a war to place a target upon your back, no matter how beaten your enemy was. Assassins were always a threat. Nero's tent walls were of thick cloth laced with oils to keep the elements and all but the sharpest of knives away and framed with collapsible steel fashioned from Rome's best smiths. It was identical in every way to other soldiers tents, if not for the interior kept furnished with lavish trappings befitting an Emperor even on a march.

"I wish to make clear some of the concerns the men have been having about our new allies. They are, well..."

"Eccentric?" A small smile danced, framed by the dawn's spotlight. "Strange?"

Praetor Maximus nodded tightly, not seeing much humor in the way his men had been muttering among themselves. "Quite."

Emperor Nero gave a gracious chuckle. "Perhaps to them we are the strange ones. Doubly so, considering the strange happenings that have occurred in the past several months. This United Rome, the emergence of old enemies turned allies..."

The young praetor shifted uneasily.

"I am aware of what the men speak of in hushed tones," said Nero, regally inclining her head, somehow managing to nod down to the praetor despite sitting and being almost half the man's size even when standing. "An old enemy turned ally is indeed familiar, if not suspicious. Even foreigners from different lands are not unheard of, understandable even, given Rome's wide reach. However, these 'Masters' are much too different to fit into our soldiers' framework of understanding. Their clothes, mannerisms, and methods of fighting are alien to us, as are their so-called Servants. Truth be told, were they any other folk I would have no doubt refused their aid."

"Yet." prompted Maximus quietly.

"Yet," said Nero, raising an imperious finger. "I believe them. They chose to come to us as with strange qualities laid bare despite their apparent familiarity with our time, disdaining use of a facade. Tell me, Maximus, would you have chosen such a first introduction to an Emperor such as I?"

Maximus sighed as he shook his head. "Upon the battlefield, with force enough to wipe out half of a field of soldiers? No, I do not believe I would have done something so audacious. Even if I knew such a course of action could... _impress_ upon your great self a certain strength of character."

"Thus, I believe they are so openly suspicious so as to be above suspicion," proclaimed Nero with a broad smile. "And, even should they be lying for whatever purpose, it would be a magnificent enough performance to earn my pardon twice over!"

A flicker of a long-standing pain flashed across Maximus' face. "Your word is a decree in and of itself, my emperor."

Nero took the unspoken portion of his opinion in stride and promptly tossed it aside in favor of her own. "Are there other matters that need my attending to, Praetor?"

Maximus took a moment to think before shaking his head and standing up at attention. "Nothing I cannot take care of myself." He stood and bowed from his waist. "By your leave, my Emperor of Roses?"

"Granted."

With a final bow, the youngest Praetor of Rome left the tent of his Emperor, his face outwardly calm but pondering furiously at how in the crusty reaches of Jupiter's beard he was supposed to find the men to bolster his battered legion in less than a week without having to accept the aid of the Celtic Queen.

The Emperor of Roses herself returned to contemplating the slowly brightening horizon.

Doubt was not a feeling she was familiar with...but even her wondrous self could be taken aback at times. Now that she had more than enough time to think, that is.

Where had the usurpers come from, with such strength? In the outset of this war, she had been forced to cede nearly half of Rome's territory to a furious advance that had only been checked at this previous battle.

In truth, the army they had fought today was all that was left from the massive force that she had whittled away at for the past few weeks. Perhaps with this victory they could launch a counterattack for the first time. The army she had just defeated had to have been a sizeable amount of this United Rome's forces.

Yet the casual disregard these enemy soldiers had for their lives could have only meant one of two things: that the enemy commander was shockingly inept, or they were all considered expendable. Perhaps both.

Nero stroked Aestus Estus carefully, its quiet flames only warm to her touch. The enemy, in sending such a loose, recklessly formidable force against her was showing a level of condescending disdain she had not felt since her time with Seneca and Master Simon.

And... _her._

A dull ache thundered dark clouds within her head, promising lightning and torrential pain. Mercifully, the migraine passed by her, and Nero could not help but feel disdain towards herself in feeling the urge to sigh in relief.

"What manner of Emperor allows the mere weakness of flesh to temper their behavior so?" Nero scoffed softly.

What manner of Emperor indeed?

Nero's eyes wandered towards the West once more. No doubt the center of this new United Rome lay towards that dusk horizon, where the enemy ruler was no doubt consolidating their power. She had wondered what kind of person they were, and what kind of Court Mage they had as retainer to raise such a force against her so quickly.

But such musings had been long since discarded.

It was now that Nero Claudius Caesar Augustus Germanicus, Emperor of Roses and rightful ruler of Rome felt _doubt_.

 _Wondering why she felt not as if she were marching further away from enemy territory, but from home._

* * *

The night sky to the east continued to grow lighter as an old but well-muscled Roman man looked into the depths of an open barrel of water. His reflection stared back at him with dull blue eyes set into a haggard and scarred face, bleary and lined with countless wrinkles.

 _Might as well get this over with,_ thought the old man as he continued to stare at water, still not moving a muscle.

Several moments passed. The old man's eyelids drooped.

And yet more time passed.

He felt his arms tiring.

And Sol peeked out over the land curiously, as if to see what the big fuss was all about.

"Get it over with already," Septimus muttered to himself. "Leathery old man."

Taking a deep breath, Old Man Septimus dunked his head into the water. Just as quickly he rose up, shaking his head like a wet dog, splattering the ground around him with water.

As he wiped at his face with a hand, Septimus sank into a squat miserably as the memories he had tried to forget last night poked and prodded at his thoughts. Terrible news of losing nearly all his pay. Bargaining with quartermasters with what was left of his coin and making the anvil that was his debt twice as heavy.

"A good thing at least a drop of the Lethe can be found at the bottom of a bottle," he muttered.

"Are you Septimus?" A young man's voice asked almost incredulously from behind him. His accent was strange, but the words and grammar were perfect Latin.

The old man grunted. _Great. An uppity young soldier looking to polish his pricker in both ways_. "Who's asking?"

"Sorry for bothering you while you were working, I'm Emiya Shirou"

Septimus snorted as he stood and turned to face the youngster. "What kind of name is..." His next words died in his throat.

Red hair. Nobody in the five legions had that kind of rusty red hair. Nobody he knew dressed in but a flower-embroidered cloak, long pants and sandals.

Nobody but the demigod who had played a large part in annihilating most of the last United Roman army the Fifth Legion had fought just days ago.

After a moment of Septimus' throat retaining a deathly grip on his words, the demigod's face turned, impossibly, awkward. "I was told that an old man named Septimus was the chief blacksmith of the Second Legion." The morning sun turned his hair bright scarlet as he looked around. "If you could tell me where he is, I'll be on my way."

"I'm Septimus," the words managed to pass through Septimus' dry lips unscathed. "What're you, ah, what are you looking for, er, Lord Emiya?"

The demigod smiled politely. "It's fine to just call me Emiya. I was hoping to speak to you about your forging techniques. You've made swords for almost all of the soldiers in the legion and they're all of a remarkably high quality even compared to other swords I know of."

 _A son of Vulkan?_ "I would not have expected a warrior of your great strength to be interested in my, ah, mundane creations." He was sure half the moisture on his face was sweat now instead of bracken water.

The demigod's eyebrows rose in mild surprise. "Mundane?" He repeated wonderingly. "I guess there might still be some Mystery left in this time, considering how this is a Singularity and the Age of the Gods has only just ended."

Septimus blinked in incomprehension, but finally he got the vague impression that his work had impressed this son of divinity. He stood up a little straighter and cleared his throat of habit but thought better of literally spitting upon ground that a demigod had stood upon.

But the demigod's next words snapped Septimus back to an unpleasant reality. "If it doesn't trouble you, could I see your forge?"

The old man's eyes widened in realization and horror.

The mound of swords and arrowheads in his tent. All of that tedious work that had driven him to drink so heavily last night, and the threats he had received from young Maximus to fix them all by the time the Legion had their ('triumphant', hah!) return to Rome.

" **VULKAN'S BALLS**!"

...is what he would have liked to yell right then and there. But as the proper and god-fearing citizen of Rome he was, the thought of disrespecting divinity (while in its presence) stayed his tongue.

"I am sorry, but perhaps another day." Septimus felt as awkward as a bear wearing a toga as he bowed. "I have much work to do to keep this army equipped, Lord Emiya."

This grizzled old man was hardly able to handle people well, but even he could tell there was little cheer in the way the corners of Lord Emiya's mouth turned up. "Please drop the title," requested Emiya firmly as he raised a staying hand. "And I wouldn't impose, only watch."

Septimus opened his mouth to protest but quickly realized the dangers of his forge were virtually nonexistent to the one before him. "I suppose..." said the old man hesitantly.

"I'll try not to distract you," said Emiya promptly. "And, I won't be staying for long, I have somewhere else to be later."

"Well...thank you," said Septimus lamely. Yet as he turned and trudged over to the forge pavilion, a thought struck him that almost made him stumble.

 _If he truly is a son of Vulkan, acting with his father's own blessing, what happens to me if my work isn't satisfactory?_

Stories of what happened to mere mortals when they displeased divinity flashed through his mind with great urgency. Ixion's name being only one of many.

 _Broken arrowheads and dull swords can wait._

As Septimus picked up his hammer, the seventh son of seven daughters resolved to create a magnum opus, under threat of being bound to a flaming wheel for all eternity.

* * *

"I don't think I'll ever get over it," said Gabrielle 'Gabby' Fujimaru with a sigh.

"Yeah," said Ritsuka 'Gudao' Fujimaru appreciatively. "Same."

"I mean," said Gabby, gesturing towards the sight. "It really makes you just feel something ineffable."

"One of the few things Magecraft itself is a lesser Mystery to," said Gudao seriously.

"Masters..." Mashu Kyrielight blinked in polite confusion as she leaned against her shield dug into the grass that was providing Gudao and Gabby shade. "Why are you staring at the sky? And, er, what are you wearing on your head there, senpai?"

The Last Masters of Chaldea lay upon a small incline and were looking up at the endless ceiling of azure blue and wispy white, side-by-side and doing their best to relax for the moment. Gabby had linked her hands under her head and crossed her legs. Gudao had on a surprisingly well fitted Roman helmet, clashing with the modern look of his Mystic Code suit. Tufts of his unruly hair peeked out from under the rim, making it seem as if the helmet were part of a Halloween costume rather than the genuine article.

Over the hill behind them, a sea of men in tunics of red and gold were breaking down tents, putting out cookfires, loading carts, and quickly getting ready to march. The wind carried with it the unique noise of the bustling of many men, filled intermittently with the braying of pack animals and uttered oaths.

"That's a good point Mashu. The sky's a mystery but there's no beating who the true stars are," said Gabby cheerfully.

Her brother turned his head towards her. "Don't the stars come twelve hours later, sis?"

"Midnight channel then, smartass," Gabby reached over and rapped on Gudao's helmet with the back of a finger, ringing it like a gong. "Clouds are way cooler than stars anyways."

"Stars are pretty cool though," Gudao said with a wince as he sat up, undoing the strap under his chin and taking off his helmet. His hair, having been imprisoned for so long, sprung back out as unruly as ever. He rubbed at his ears, frowning down at Gabby.

"Have you ever seen a star in the shape of a - " Gabby gesticulated wildly with the expression of someone believing they were talking perfect sense. " - a teddy bear?"

"Do constellations count?"

"Hm." Gabby raised a finger and pointed at her brother approvingly. "That's a good point."

"I know, came up with it myself."

"Masters, shouldn't we be getting ready to leave with the rest of the legion?" Mashu asked with a sigh. She glanced backwards. The Romans had been famed for the discipline and strength of their standing army, and what she saw now was truly impressive when compared to the likes of the armies she had seen while in Orleans.

"Aren't we ready now?" Gabby said, springing into a sitting position. "It isn't like we have much to pack or stow anyways."

"I think Mashu meant we should be accompanying Emperor Nero," said Gudao, fitting the helm back on his head again. "After all, she told us it would be around half a day or so until we got back to Rome once we started marching. Actually, come to think of it, how far away from Rome are we?"

Suddenly a hologram blinked into existence in front of Gabby. "Not _too far away I think,"_ said Doctor Romani, _"about thirty kilometers or so from the city's center."_

"Oh hey there Doc," said Gabby, waving. "Have you finished the analysis of how Caligula got away yet?"

 _"Yes, that's what we need to talk about now, actually."_

Gudao put his helmet onto his lap and linked his hands together on top of it. Mashu leaned in closer surreptitiously. Strands of idly plucked grass fell from Gabby's hand as she folded her arms.

 _"We've confirmed that though Caligula was recalled by something like a Command Seal, it wasn't exactly like a regular expression of a Command Seal's power. Instead of tearing a hole through the fabric of reality and instantaneously transporting Caligula through it, it looks like the exact space he inhabited was somehow replaced with a different space where he wasn't."  
_

Gabby blinked. Gudao blinked once, and then another time.

"Isn't that something extremely concerning, Doctor?!" Mashu said, shocked. "That level of dimensional control is practically True Magic!"

 _"Well...yeah? But since we just finished the analysis now, and the enemy hasn't used that ability again yet against us we can assume it has some sort of limit to it right?"_

Gabby shrugged. "You're probably right, but you know what they say about the absence of evidence right?"

 _"Yeah,"_ Romani's hologram nodded glumly. _"It's not evidence by itself. Sorry, I should have gotten this done and messaged you two quicker."_

"Ah, don't be like that Doctor," Gabby reached over and flicked a finger through Dr. Roman's holographic head, who reared back in surprise. "Wasn't riffing on you or anything, just wondering out loud."

"Things are never simple in these Singularities are they?" Gudao sighed, shaking his head. "Too many questions, never enough answers."

"We never did figure out how Kiyohime and Elizabeth ended up in Orleans," murmured Mashu in agreement.

Gudao scratched at his head for the umpteenth time while considering that particular happening. "They're always so evasive about that topic too..."

 _"At any rate, there has to be some reason why United Rome hasn't sent out any more Servants despite having a legion of Nero's army on the run,"_ summed up Chaldea's acting commander as he straightened up in his chair. _"We should proceed on the idea that United Rome can't or won't field any more than one Servant at a time, while also keeping in mind that it may also be a feint for us to let our guards down."_

"In other words," said Gabby with a wry smile. "Be prepared for anything, right?"

Dr. Roman seemed to deflate a little. _"Easier said than done, I know. Especially since we know next to nothing about this 'United Rome' that seems to be at the center of this Singularity."_

Gudao suddenly noticed that the background noise of a crowd of men working had dimmed noticeably. He looked behind him at the camp and his eyes widened at the sight.

Almost every tent had been broken down and packed, with only a few left standing that included Nero's and the legion blacksmith's canopy billowing smoke that Shirou had disappeared into some time ago after looking much refreshed and asking personally for some time to be summoned in the Singularity. As it turned out, Shirou had been the only one who had expressed an interest in seeing the Roman Singularity again.

As Cu Chulainn put it, they were soldiers whose job ended as soon as the last enemy fell. Robin had shrugged in agreement with the Irishman and ever-dutiful Ushiwakamaru had been satisfied with a few headpats from Gudao. And Georgios had already taken his fill of photos already.

As if on cue, the blacksmith's tent flaps opened and Shirou slowly walked out, gently supporting a staggering old man. A low buzz ran through the crowd of soldiers and a few broke away with their hands falling to their short swords, though not without some very evident trepidation about confronting a Servant.

Gabby was already on her feet and ready to run before Shirou stopped her by making brief eye contact with her through the sea of bodies.

 _Septimus is already explaining,_ said Shirou through their bond. _I think I'll be fine._

And indeed, already the old blacksmith, Septimus, was gesticulating wildly and speaking. The gathered soldiers noticeably relaxed and a few broke out into chuckles as the old man pointed a gnarled finger at Shirou and shook his head with a weak smile.

"It's not like I was worrying in the first place," said Gudao, clapping Gabby on the shoulder as he came up next to her. "But it does seem like Shirou can make friends."

"My little boy's all grown up," Gabby said with an exaggerated pout.

"I believe he can hear you, Senpai," said Mashu with a small smile.

Gabby blinked. "Eh?"

 _Yes mother,_ came Shirou's amused voice. _It seems he can.  
_

Gabby rolled her eyes. "My, what big ears Servants have," she muttered.

A static-laced laugh made the Masters and Mashu turn, to see Dr. Roman smiling at them cheerfully. _"I guess I don't have much to worry about for now if you three are able to take it easy like this. I'll need to run some more diagnostics on the quantum particles we have in storage soon, but as always I'll be around if you need me."  
_

"You got it Doc!" said Gabby cheerfully with a two-armed wave.

"Thanks for the info, Doctor," said Mashu with a smile.

"Don't push yourself," Gudao chipped in encouragingly. "That goes for the rest of Chaldea's staff, too."

Doctor Roman chuckled again. _"I'll try, Ritsuka. And so will they, right guys?!"_

A faint chorus of voices fizzled through the comms as Doctor Roman looked off-screen.

Doctor Roman turned one last time to smile at them. " _Thanks_. _Good luck, Gabrielle, Ritsuka_ _._ "

With a blip, the hologram blinked out from existence.

"Now to find Emperor Nero and regale her with tales of our adventures!" said Gabby, stretching with her arms in the air for a moment and starting up a leisurely stroll through the camp.

Gudao and Mashu started following her. After a moment aimless walking, Mashu firmly placed her hands upon Gabby's shoulders and wordlessly gestured to Emperor Nero's tent with a gentle smile. With their course corrected, Gudao spoke up.

"You sure that I shouldn't - ?"

"Brother," Gabby flatly held eye contact with her brother while skirting around the still-smoking ashes of a cook-fire. "It's good for reports but most of the time you make it seem like we actually had a plan! You really think she's going to believe that with just the three of us here - "

"Three to nine of us at any given time, senpai," Mashu cut in helpfully, tapping Gabby's shoulder again towards the right direction.

Gabby pointed at Mashu in acknowledgement before continuing on, " - And not like, an army?"

"You just like embellishing everything," grumbled Gudao.

He nodded to a Roman soldier jogging by, who felt strangely obligated to give him a quick salute back. A moment later, the soldier stopped, blinked, and turned around to look at Gudao, confirming with his own eyes that it had not been his commanding officer who had just passed him by.

"Fine, fine," sighed Gudao. "Just don't go too overboard."

"Oh, ye of little faith," Gabby clutched at her chest. "Don't worry, I know exactly what I'm doing..."

* * *

" - And then they made me their chief!" Gabby finished triumphantly, standing firm atop the back of the wagon.

"Marvelously done!" Nero applauded enthusiastically from the back of her horse. "I did not expect such bold thinking could have ever worked against even such an assortment of bandits alone, even to one as courageous as I!"

The Roman soldiers surrounding them followed their Emperor's lead with genuine appreciation. Most started looking at Gabby with newfound respect and admiration. Praetor Maximus in particular was looking straight forward but nodding with a smile as he patted his horse's neck absentmindedly.

Gudao sat near the front of the wagon next to the wagon driver and held his face in his hands.

Mashu patted him on the back gently and reassuringly. "Don't worry, Senpai." She said with a smile full of sympathy. "Rome shouldn't be too much farther."

"Why couldn't Shirou have stayed behind and distracted Gabby for just a little longer?" Gudao groaned. "I would take the drain on my mana reserves over this torture..."

"I'm sure he had something more important to do back in Chaldeas, Senpai."

"I hope so, Mashu," Gudao sighed as he looked balefully at his sister's gaily laughing, still-standing, figure. "I hope so."

* * *

Two men lay upon patches of barren earth. Each spent of energy and more than a little beat up.

The setting sun painted the sky a deep orange and the clouds a pastel gold. Dots of light blue mana hung in the air, dissipating like rain into the sky from the shattered remnants of thousands of blades scattered across the wasteland.

EMIYA coughed to clear his throat. "We will never speak of this again. Agreed?"

"Uh-huh," Shirou wheezed. "We'll just have to agree to disagree on our...choice of partner."

"I can...live with that."

* * *

As they crested the hill rising in the middle of the forest, the sound of the River Tiber trickled into their ears.

Emperor Nero visibly brightened at that and waved the wagon driver forward and dropped her horse's pace slightly. The trio of Chaldeans looked to her despite being in conversation as her horse sidled up alongside them.

She could admire such dutifulness.

"Soon you shall see the glory of Rome, honorary Praetors!" She raised a hand high into the air pompously, as if her sleeve were a curtain ready to present a theater act to an audience. "Though you may have seen many wonders and mysteries before, it's splendor shall no doubt leave you speechless! You may praise us when such a notion takes a hold of you," she said, puffing herself up with self-satisfaction.

"I'm looking forward to it!" said Gudao enthusiastically, sitting up higher in his seat and looking over the head of their wagon driver, who raised a slight eyebrow without turning around. Mashu copied her Master and if she happened to press her shoulder against Gudao's, well, the wagon itself was not that large of course. Not that the Master noticed anything else besides the sound of the River Tiber growing louder with every passing moment.

Gabby took one look and shook her head with an amused smile on her lips.

"Umu!" Nero nodded in approval at Gudao. "Of course, you may cast your expectations ever higher! Be assured they will be met!"

Then the march stopped as a wave of fists raised high and held in place and the air was filled with the sound of rushing water and unsheathing blades.

Her eyes narrowed as Nero stopped her horse and raised her own fist high, stopping every soldier marching behind her. "My apologies, honorary Praetors," said Nero with a tight nod to the trio who were still caught slightly off-guard by the sudden change in atmosphere. "It appears our scouts have sighted that enemies are near."

Leather creaked ominously as she gripped her saddle tight, looking forward to where her Rome lay.

"Here," she spat in indignation. "Truly their pursuit of my - "

Her eyes were not the only ones to widen in sudden realization as to the purpose of an enemy force so close to a vulnerable capital state. As the Last Masters of Chaldea looked to Nero Claudius Caesar Augustus Germanicus, they saw in that figure something they recognized.

From the hell that Fuyuki had become, facing down a fallen tyrant. In the dragon fire that had scorched Orleans.

They recognized in this Emperor Nero, so full of fury, the qualities that could make her an enemy of humanity.

"PRAETOR MAXIMUS!"

Emperor Nero's shout broke the tense silence among the men like a stone sending ripples of courage across the surface of a pond of hesitation. For these soldiers were but men, who had fought and bled and died against those inhuman in the shape of man for the past seven days and six nights.

"YES, MY EMPEROR!" Came the young man's resounding reply.

Her raised fist descended, her sleeve falling as if to signal a curtain call. "BEGIN FULL MARCH! OUR ENEMIES THREATEN ROME ITSELF! THIS WILL NOT STAND!"

The roar of a legion shook the branches of the forest trees, soon followed by the pounding of hundreds of feet upon the ground as Nero's orders swiftly made their way down the chain of command.

At the same time, a path opened up in the middle of this rush that no one took.

"It is brazen to ask for you assistance with only the promise of repayment," Nero calmed her warhorse to speak to the Masters and Mashu. "Yet I fear brazen I must be at this time. The heart of Rome is in peril and I know not the exact strength of those endangering it."

"You'll forgive our impertinence then, Emperor Nero," said Gudao as he leapt out of wagon carefully avoiding the Roman soldiers rushing by. Gabby followed with a soft cry of "Parkour!", and Mashu manifested her shield as she landed, placing it down firmly onto the ground. "But we're already way ahead of you. Thanks for the ride Felix," he added, addressing the wagon driver.

"Anytime, kid," said the man with a toothy smile as he saluted to his Emperor first and drove the wagon forward with a shout. In seconds, the wagon filled up with soldiers who climbed on to get to the frontlines quicker.

"Also, we'll have to ask you in return, Emperor Nero," Gabby said as she took out from her pocket what looked like a circlet of black wire holding in place a light blue orb. As she bent down to place the Saint Graph Shadow on Mashu's shield, she looked up with a glint in her eye. "Can _you_ keep up with _us_?"

Emperor Nero's lips quirked slightly before settling into a firm line, looking forward once more with her eyes narrowed. "I shall receive such flippant attitude as a promise to excel!"

Drawing Aestus Estus as it flared ever brighter, she spoke quietly, almost inaudible, as if enraptured by a stage play unfolding from a distance. "Let us truly set the stage for this theater of war."

With those words, Emperor Nero shook her head and rode forth on the road opened up by her soldiers, raising Aestus Estus high and eliciting cheers and roars from her troops.

Gudao let out a sigh. "Hey Gabs?"

"Yep?"

"I'll ask for Mata Hari's help on this one. And if her Noble Phantasm doesn't work I'll rely on Atalante's."

"Oh, good ideas. I was thinking of - "

"Just a second though," said Gudao, raising a hand and looking slightly irritated. "Would you tell me just how you were planning to outrun a Nero whose Imperial Privilege just gave her Riding, on top of us just now giving her a head start?"

"If you let me finish, I could've tell you," she grumbled. "But I'll just say one name and you'll get it anyways."

"What? As many Servants as we have, I don't think - "

Gabby smirked and said the name.

Gudao stared for a moment as the tail end of the legion came into sight and looked into the air. Then up and down the long stretch of suddenly vacated, relatively smooth road. Then his eyes roamed back to Gabby, whose smile could have belonged on the face of an imp.

"I don't understand," said Mashu, confused. "I thought that Noble Phantasm only - "

"It's...complicated," said Gudao with a wince. "It'll consume a lot of mana but given how powerful and safe it is in this time, we might be fine anyways. But we'll be doing this without any knowledge of the enemy forces, and - "

"It'll look totally badass, and time's a-wasting and I'M ALREADY DOING IT!"

"WAIT, GABBY - !"

"TOO LATE!"

The air whined with the sound of mana coalescing into physical form. A fountain of light jetted up into the air and quickly dissipated as the Servant stood from where Gabby's Saint Graph Shadow had lain, answering the call of the Command Seals glowing on the back of Gabby's right hand.

Mashu nodded to the Servant, somehow feeling it was the right thing to do.

Surprisingly, he nodded back without a word.

* * *

Emperor Nero frowned as her steed charged ahead to assess the United Rome forces. She could not feel the Chaldeans catching up to her on one of their quicker 'Servants', such as that foreign-looking girl she had seen dart about the previous battlefield engagement.

Certainly, Gabrielle was confident in matching her riding skills, but bravado was hardly in short supply around her it seemed, whether for good or for ill. But a moment Nero shook her head.

 _Inconsequential._

Rome was threatened at this moment. She would make do with her own forces if she could not -

 _Wait. What is that sound?_

It was a low whine that was growing louder, and higher in pitch, far too quickly. As if it were a giant stone being flung from a -

It was only for an instant.

The air itself shrieked as a black triangular form streaked across the sky above her, making the tree tops sway back and forth. And the noise was still accompanied by a bestial roar that was every bit as audible as the noise the thing itself was making.

 **"ARTHUUUURRRRRRRR!"**

* * *

 **A/N:**

It's been a while. Yes, I'm alive. Yes, the story is still going, I'm just cosplaying a glacier at the moment. One that's moving backwards almost as often as not.

When I started writing this story I came up with the idea of putting Shirou in Chaldea and thought of the potential character interactions there, but as I played more Fate Grand/Order the more I came to enjoy the story of that game a lot more.

 **So, tell me what you guys think of this idea:**

When I manage to complete this Septem arc, I'm going to start writing LZO in an episodic format centering around Shirou rather than being solely a Part One fan fic. For this arc alone, the Masters and the Servants starring in Septem take the center stage, not Shirou.

I feel like a lot of people are here for Shirou hijinks, but over the past year(!) I realized that if I want to cover a Singularity there's going to be only a little of that because then I don't feel like I'd have any "space" to "fix" Septem and shed a better light on misrepresented Servants like Caligula, Romulus, Boudica, and a few more.

 **Or** :

I can keep going like this, switching focus to the Masters and Mashu when the Singularities happen and switching back to Shirou when the relevant events show up.

Whatever you guys think, I read all my reviews.

Even ones that think Zerkerlot summoning his jet here is just plain stupid. Don't worry guys, I think it's stupid too.

Ahem. How's Septimus, the old man OC. Boring? Funny? Or even just a little tiny bit interesting?

Feedback is appreciated as always. Still worried about getting everyone's personalities down right, especially Nero since I haven't played Extra, Extella or watched the anime. And as always, I will try not to take so long with the next update. But considering how long its been since the last update...yeah, I might need to get my ass into gear.


End file.
